The Frost People
by Hubalaboo
Summary: 15 years after the Winter War, a new enemy starts to wake - something cold and something determined to have Hitsugaya Toushirou. Main pairing is Ichiruki but includes Hitsuhina and a bit of Byakuhisa. Last chapter up - peace returns to Soul Society
1. The Cold Things Raise Their Faces

_A/N: This takes place 15 years after the Winter War. Ichimaru Gin has been allowed back his position as 3rd division's captain, after many years of working as a regular low-level shinigami to gain the others' trust back (anyway he had already fought well in the Winter War, helping to bring about the defeat of Aizen). Kurosaki Ichigo is no longer a human and made the decision to become a full-time shinigami. He and Rukia have yet to realize their feelings for each other._

_Something old is awakening in the deep forests of Soul Society._

_Enjoy!!_

-

**Chapter 1: The Cold Things Raise Their Faces**

The forest whispered hidden windy thoughts as three hooded shapes pattered through its dark depths.

The three shapes were all clothed in smoky blue and white, and similar masks covered their faces. The masks were all in the shapes of birds' heads.

The first, a tall and well-built female, wore a mask of a barn owl. The black hollow pits that were eyeholes stood out, stark with contrast, from the rest of the mask. Something glimmered in those twin pits, something quiet and sly. A white scythe, pure and beautiful, was slung across her back.

The second was small and quick on its feet. It could not be seen whether it was a male or a female; it looked like a child, young and energetic. Its mask was in the shape of a finch, small round eyeholes giving of the air of something innocent and naive. It clenched two curved daggers in its little hands.

The third was not so tall, but with a strong male body nonetheless. His mask was that of a white raven, and the eyeholes shone with red light, clear in the darkness of the forest. His robes were the longest and they clung to the loam and rustling leaves as he swept along, blue-white patterns intricate around his cloak. He carried no visible weapon.

They stopped. The leaves rushed around them, creating miniature tornadoes and swirling up above through the black fingers of the trees. The wind rose, and fragments of ice and snow wafted slowly past the three figures.

One in particular twinkled with a lovely air, but the third figure reached out and deftly crushed it between cruel fingers. He looked at the remnants and raised his head, a whispery voice lacing bitterly through the cold frostbitten air.

"He is close."

"Indeed," breathed the first.

The second shivered and shuffled its feet. "Soon... Soon he will be with us."

"Yes."

The third narrowed his red eyes. "Whether he likes it or not, of course."

Then raised his cruel beak and called a raven's haunting call.

-

Hitsugaya Toushirou, captain of Tenth Division and wielder of the strongest ice zanpakutou, shunpoed quickly from tree to tree, bright turquoise eyes alert and shining. One who did not know him would think he was some odd kind of child dressed as a captain, but saying that to his face would result in either an icy reply, silence, or a lifetime frozen in a lump of ice.

Hitsugaya was not one to be trifled with.

His eyes slid from side to side, white hair sweeping back with the force of the wind. He felt something strange close by; a reiatsu that was nothing like he had ever felt before.

It was still distant; he had time to try and decipher it. Neither a hollow, nor a shinigami... Not a simple soul, either. Something deeper, and older, and stronger. And the strangest of all was that he felt a faint tug of familiarity from it.

Hyourinmaru stirred and raised his head. Indeed, the familiarity was something to do with his element of ice, for the reiatsu was very cold and frostbitten. Similar to his, in fact. But there was something still wrong with it...

All of a sudden, the reiatsu was below him.

Zanpakutou out in an instant, he leapt to the tree behind him in a flash, blade out and ready. Nothing came at him; he peered below, eyes narrowed in anticipation of an attack that did not come.

Three white figures watched him from below.

Hitsugaya lowered his sword. "Who are you?" he demanded, white hair prickling from the force of their reiatsu.

They stayed eerily silent.

He gripped his zanpakutou tighter. "What do you want?"

The first figure stepped forward.

"Nothing," she called. "We simply want you."

Then they were around him on the same branch, clawed hands reaching to grasp him.

-

"Ichigo! You idiot! What are you doing?"

"I'm trying to fight a hollow, Rukia! Now shut up, you're distracting me!"

"I will not shut up! If you're captain-level, why is it taking you so long to defeat this one meager hollow?!"

He growled, irritated, and swept Zangetsu through the hollow's midsection, watching it flicker and flutter away into dust.

He turned back to Rukia, a scowl on his face.

"See, if you would just shut up for a second-"

BAM

"Ugh, Rukia! Ow! Geez, you don't have to-"

"Bakamono! You should be able to fight good and proper even with noise and distractions around you!"

Ichigo growled again, but let her win and did not retort back. He almost smirked; something inside him always wanted to give way and let her win, in the same way that he could never hit her even if she punched and kicked him multiple times.

And anyway, she was right most of the time.

"We should head back to Seireitei."

She nodded briskly. "Yes, we should. Come on, Ichigo!"

Ichigo was no longer a substitute shinigami; he had become a regular shinigami after the Winter War, and though the decision had been a difficult one, he knew he would be able to visit his family and friends occasionally and that laid most of his worries at rest.

At the moment, he was not part of any division. Rukia had pressed upon him many times to become a captain (fifth division and ninth division were still captainless; Ichimaru Gin had made a return to his position as captain of third division), or at least a lieutenant. But Ichigo had felt like he was not yet part of the Gotei 13; he was still the shinigami substitute, and he was only here for a visit.

It would take him some time to get used to the idea. Perhaps never. He couldn't really see himself as a captain, or even a lieutenant.

So until then, he would wander wherever Rukia went, and be as much help as he could be to the Gotei 13. Things were peaceful since it was only 15 years since the end of the Winter War; with Aizen defeated, everything had settled down significantly.

And surely all of Soul Society was glad for this.

But having all this captain stuff on his mind had been taxing on his concentration, hence the time it would take to defeat a simple hollow.

They walked side by side through the forest and cliffs near Seireitei. There was still a ways to go until they reached the gate, so Ichigo thought it to be a good time to explain his recent lack of success.

"Hey, Rukia..."

"What?"

"You know, about the hollow back there... I mean, how I'm not fighting really well lately..."

At this, she looked at him curiously, tilting her head. He scratched his head uneasily and continued.

"Well, truth is, I've been having lots on my mind... and stuff... Like, with the whole 'you should become a captain' deal. I don't know... I don't think... I'm not really the captain-type, am I?... I mean... I'd much rather... just go around and help where I can, in any division... and I'd like to be able to go back to the Human World often, to check on things... I just..."

He watched the ground, waiting for her to shout and stamp and berate him for being a coward and a weakling. He deserved it, really.

"I'm sorry, Ichigo."

He looked up in surprise. "What?..."

She met his eyes with a level gaze. "I've been pushing you towards becoming a captain, haven't I? I suppose... I was pressuring you too much." She smiled suddenly. "If you don't want to become one, that's fine. If you decided it for yourself, then isn't that a good thing?"

Ichigo's eyes lit up from the familiarity of the meaning of those words. He grinned.

"That's my line, Rukia."

-

Hitsugaya ducked and rolled out from the hands just in time; they grasped nothing, and he pelted away, shunpoeing as fast as he could through the trees. Any other time he would have stayed and fought, but these three...

There was something horribly wrong. He had to go warn the Gotei 13; he could sense the dark foreboding, stormy seas and lunging shapes that brought shadows of worry to his thoughts.

A white hand came out in front of him, ready to grasp his face.

He gasped and flung his blade at it. The hand caught it, and he came face to face with a white finch mask, eyeholes black and empty.

-

_A/N: Heheh, cliffhanger! :P I hope to write the next chapter as soon as I can. It might take a while, though; school is busy for me._


	2. And They Call Themselves

_A/N: Sorry this took so long! I don't have much time lately. This was very fun to write, though!_

-

**Chapter 2: And They Call Themselves**

Alarm leapt through him as he stared into the empty black holes. Wide turquoise eyes met twin voids and he managed to whisper a strangled "what are you?" as his zanpakutou trembled against the creature's grasp.

The head slowly tilted to one side. A curious breathy sound escaped from the small beak and trickled through the air, coming to rest thickly on his ears.

A thin white hand, the hand of a small child, reached out and touched his face. He gasped from the cold, from the feel of frost and ice and snow and all the frozen water in the world resting on his face and crawling through his skin and wrapping around him and comforting him and loving him and bringing him closer and closer to that endless place that plain of ice and snow where-

**TOUSHIROU!**

Dulled eyes flashed bright again as Hitsugaya snapped out of his trance and pushed past the small white-clothed child. Inside him, the dragon roared.

_Thank you, Hyourinmaru._

There was only a grunt of urgency to answer that, for this was no time to be conversing with his zanpakutou. Hitsugaya struggled to free himself from the feeling of that cold hand and concentrate on fleeing from the three mysterious figures. He felt them, still tugging, still wailing for him. Their voices, not voices, sent shivers up his spine. They were gaining, yet again. Soon they would catch him and pull him back, and-

He smashed out of the forest, the bright light blinding him. Though he could tell that they had stopped at the rim of the forest and pursued from no more, he did not falter in his speed.

_We don't like all the stone... We don't like the fake, dead stone..._

He swept down to the beginnings of the buildings and roads of Rukongai, shunpoeing as fast as he could through the alleyways and landing at a large gateway to Seireitei.

Breathless, he leaned against the hard wall, face heavy with sweat. _Hyourinmaru..._

**I know.**

_What are they?_

Silence met his query.

Hitsugaya turned, sighed, and requested entrance to Seireitei. He had something very significant to report.

-

The path to the gate was still long, but it was pleasant. Ichigo and Rukia traveled it in silence, enjoying the still beauty of the midday.

Rukia took a glance up at Ichigo. She saw how peaceful he looked, now that the hard times were over. She was grateful; very grateful. She had hated seeing him injured, beaten, ripped apart, gasping, hurting, fighting for his life, fighting for Soul Society, fighting for her. That... now that had been torture.

She smiled slightly as she took in the fact that his brows were still furrowed, as they would always be, and his eyes still looked straight ahead, always ready to choose the right path. He could be so thick-headed, stubborn, stupid, cocky, and rude sometimes, but that was Ichigo, and he was a good person.

She, too, looked ahead. She would walk alongside him for as long as she could.

Ichigo glanced down at the small black-haired shinigami. He traced the lines of her hair and her face, observing the large violet eyes, beautiful because he had looked into them so many times and had come to love them.

He noted how she walked tall and proud, as small and child-like as she looked, and how she made up for her size by her deep voice and her strength and her heart. And she was brave, very brave; he remembered how she had fought in the Winter War.

He flinched. He had hated seeing her get hurt.

But he smiled slightly as he took in the fact that she would always punch him in the gut or the face and yell at him and shout at him and outwit him in that smug, smirking way of hers, even when times were hard. She could be so rude to him, but that was Rukia, and she was a good person.

He wondered briefly if she cared for him as much as he did for her.

Then the thought was pushed away by something else that came to mind.

"Oi, Rukia..."

"Mm."

"Have you thought about getting a seat? Y'know, 'cause, well, you're pretty strong and all. Just saying."

Rukia lowered her eyes and hesitated before answering.

"Nii-sama does not wish for it..."

Ichigo could hear the pain in her words, and his eyes softened. He sighed. "Nii-sama this, nii-sama that. If you want to get a seat, then get a seat. You're strong enough. I have proof."

She looked at him, violet eyes wide, pained, and seeking. Warm brown ones looked back at her. Then Ichigo grinned, smacking the petite Rukia's back rather strongly.

"C'mon, liven up! Go talk to Ukitake, ask what he thinks. And hey, talk to Byakuya too! Tell him that you really want to get a seat."

Rukia spluttered from the force of his back-patting, and gave him a punch in the gut right after, but in reality she was very much cheered up by his words, and she resolved to indeed go talk to those two individuals.

She had to admit that Ichigo was quite talented with choosing the right words to make her feel better.

-

"Yamamoto Sou-taichou! Please forgive the interruption."

"Hitsugaya Toushirou," muttered Yamamoto, absentmindedly rubbing his bony fingers across the head of his staff, "what brings you here?"

Hitsugaya bowed his white head, contemplating on the best words to describe his strange meeting with the three white-clothed figures. After a moment, he raised his face, turquoise eyes glittering and shoulders squared.

"I have something to report. It is of utmost importance."

Yamamoto pursed his lips. "Continue."

"I believe... I believe all of Soul Society may be in danger-"

He closed his eyes, dreading how his next words would sound so utterly self-centered; but he had no other words to describe it. It was an unforgivable truth.

"-but most of all, they want me... and I am afraid of them."

-

A leaf rested delicately at the very tip of a thin branch, hanging on by only the meager tip of the stem but perfectly balanced all the same, wavering in the frosty air. A cold wind blew; the leaf trembled, weak as the thinnest parchment, and a deadly white frost swept up the branch to murder the leaf and encase it forever.

Here and there, similar leaves and branches were ending their lives in the same gruesome way. The frost rushed with fury across everything, forming a pure white tidal wave, engulfing all and turning it white, a beautiful white, glittering and pure.

In the center of the massacre stood the third white-clothed figure; the one with the raven's mask. The eyeholes burned blood-red, shocking in all the whiteness, and the man whirled around with breath hissing angrily. Oh, he was angry. He was very, very angry.

The frost was the result of this uncontrollable anger.

Now, a huge area of frost and death surrounded him in a perfect white circle.

He panted roughly, growling through his teeth, stabbing the frost beneath him with his claws. Claws that should not have been there, or were not there, until the exact moment that he had wanted to hurt the frost. Yes, that was it. He simply wanted to hurt.

Hovering above him were the other two. They were silent; they knew they would have to wait until he was completely worn out before they could converse with him. That was his way.

The raven-masked man flopped down into the churned mess of dirt and frost, breathing heavy. His eyes still flamed, but his anger had been let out, and so the two knew that words would be able to pass his lips and ears now.

The owl-masked woman let out a breath. "Karasu..."

The little one, finch-masked, hopped down into the mush of dirty white and brown and began to form snowballs, emitting soft curious giggles.

The woman knelt beside the silent man, still in the frost. "Karasu," she began again, clasping her delicate white hands, "we shall have him. Suzume has already touched him. It shall be easier to take him, because of this."

"He has gone to tell his allies, the little brat," growled Karasu through the snow. Suzume made an especially loud cry of delight from the discovery of a frozen moth, and at this Karasu burst up in rage and smacked the child, sending it flying into the frost-glazed branches. It crawled, whimpering, to the tall pale woman's side, and stayed there, silently pulling the legs and wings off of the moth. She did not even glance its way.

"Fukurou," muttered Karasu, addressing the woman. "Then, we wait here?"

"Yes," she cooed, "we wait until he steps away from the fake dead stone."

-

_A/N: "Karasu" means crow/raven, "Suzume" means sparrow, and "Fukurou" means owl._

_I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. :) Ichigo and Rukia will begin to have involvement in the main plot soon._

_This might sound a little morbid, but I really love writing about my three antagonists and the cruel, creepy things they do... Like Suzume pulling the legs and wings off of the frozen moth. It gives me shivers thinking about it but I love writing about it. xD I'm weird, heheh._


	3. The Frost People

_A/N: Again, sorry this took so long! School kills my time. x_x_

-

**Chapter 3: The Frost People**

The cherry blossoms were out in full.

Kuchiki Byakuya was sitting with legs neatly folded beneath him, sipping tea and watching his garden. He closed his eyes, remembering and wishing and hoping.

In truth, he had never lost hope. He had always imagined her coming back, reborn or perhaps not reborn. He preferred the latter; then she would remember him.

_Hisana. Hisana._

He repeated her name mentally, as if it would help in conjuring her up before him. He still loved her, even if she was dead. His beautiful wife with those gentle eyes and soft black hair and tender smiles...

He could still hear her voice: _Byakuya-sama... Byakuya-sama..._

Lost in his memories, he snapped awake, only now noticing the hell butterfly hovering in front of him.

_- All Gotei 13 captains - Yamamoto Sou-taichou is calling an important meeting - all Gotei 13 captains - important meeting, occurring now -_

Byakuya sighed, and stood. A time of peace when he could reminisce would have to wait.

-

Kurotsuchi Mayuri was in the middle of an intense experiment (consisting of extracting the individual particles from a miniscule fragment of preserved arrancar, left over from the Winter War) when the hell butterfly reached him with the same message. Greatly annoyed by the hovering black thing in front of his face, he swiped at it a couple times before finally looking at it and realizing what it exactly was.

He shook his head, exasperated, after he heard the message.

"And in the middle of this vital experiment! Of all times, really. Nemu! Nemu! Place this in stable condition, would you? Seven degrees will do, with the 5-5-M wire connected to it. Don't let it be moved!"

He rubbed his unique face and sighed. His precious experiment would have to wait.

-

Ukitake Juushirou was having a little chat with his good friend Kyouraku Shunsui, admiring the lovely cherry blossoms and oh, don't they smell absolutely wonderful, yes, I know, it's my favorite time of year, when the hell butterfly perched upon Ukitake's shoulder and relayed its message.

The two friends looked at each other, curious.

"Wonder what it could be about?"

"Mm, really quite odd. Well, we'd better see what ol' Yamajii wants with us, eh?"

"It sounds urgent, anyway."

Quiet little chats could happen anytime, they supposed.

-

All over Seireitei, the captains of the 13 Divisions were raising their heads curiously and listening closely to the hell butterflies. Zaraki Kenpachi was running about with Yachiru on his shoulder, searching for Ichigo; Soi Fon was training with her slightly dull lieutenant; Unohana Retsu was tending to an injured shinigami (minor, the shinigami was rash in a hollow attack, silly girl); Komamura Sajin was taking a walk with Hisagi Shuuhei and Kira Izuru; Ichimaru Gin was conversing with his wife, Matsumoto Rangiku.

Ichigo and Rukia entered Seireitei just as all the captains were making their way to First Division. Curious, they stopped Ukitake, Rukia running up to him with a greeting.

"Ah, Kuchiki, Kurosaki-san!" exclaimed Ukitake in his usual friendly tone.

"What's going on, Ukitake-san?" asked Ichigo.

Ukitake's eyes lit up with surprise. "Oh, that's right, you wouldn't have gotten the hell butterfly." He grinned and nodded at both of them. "Why don't you two come along? I'm sure Yamamoto-soutaichou wouldn't mind this once, seeing as you two did exceptionally well in the Winter War. And you'd have stuck your nose into it sooner or later anyway, right, Kurosaki-san?"

Rukia smiled wryly, casting a sidelong glance at a slightly ruffled Ichigo. "Oh yes, of course, he always does." She roughly elbowed him in the side, causing him to shout in pain and annoyance. A bout of bickering followed.

Ukitake chuckled to himself. _Those two get along so well,_ he thought cheerfully, and hesitantly interrupted them since the meeting would be starting very soon.

-

"Yamamoto-soutaichou! Everyone has assembled," announced Sasakibe, bowing his head respectfully. The captains were all lined up, Hinamori Momo and Hisagi there instead, for their divisions were still captainless.

"Good. Hitsugaya-taichou, please report to the Gotei 13."

Hitsugaya Toushirou stepped forward, solemn and dark. He raised his boyish face, the expression on it unfitting, and his turquoise eyes were so troubled that Momo saw at once that something was terribly wrong with Shiro-chan. She wanted to give him a little wave, just to let him know she was here, but his eyes were fixed on an invisible point on the far doors.

He was silent for a few more moments before he began to speak.

"I was patrolling a forested area, out in Rukongai, just close by to Seireitei... The Eastern gate, I think. I felt a strange reiatsu... Neither a hollow's, nor a shinigami's, but it was so familiar to me. I was wondering what it was, and was deep in my thoughts, because the reiatsu was still far away... and then... all of a sudden, it was right below me." He gave a little shiver before he continued. "It was the strangest feeling - the movement was so fast, it seemed like teleportation. I was alarmed, and I looked down to see three people.

"They were wearing all white and light blue, and had masks on their faces. I think they were all of birds. They had cold, white hands... They said that they wanted nothing, only me..." His small hands curled into fists. "Then they began to chase me, and tried to catch me - and it continued until I broke out of the forest, and they stopped. It seemed like... It seemed like they didn't like entering Rukongai.

"So there - that is what happened. I have a feeling that these three may pose to be difficult enemies in the near future. End of report."

There was a prolonged, thick silence. Rukia and Ichigo gave each other looks.

At last, Kurotsuchi Mayuri spoke. "Mm... Can you describe those three and their reiatsu in more detail?"

Hitsugaya hesitated for a moment before answering.

"The tallest one," he said, "seemed to be a woman, by her voice. Her mask was of an owl... A barn owl. The two others, I do not know if they are male or female. One was most likely a child, and the other perhaps a man, by body build. The child wore a small bird's mask, and the man, a raven's. Their reiatsu was... cold..."

"Cold?"

"Yes. Like ice."

"Hm. Could you perhaps elaborate on that, mm?"

"It was very cold and cruel... It... it resembled mine, in a way..."

"Fascinating. Absolutely fascinating." Kurotsuchi fell quiet, muttering to himself with a gleeful look on his face.

Now it was Soi Fon who spoke up. "Why didn't you fight them? Being a captain, you must be capable of defeating them easily."

Hitsugaya bristled at the irritable tone in her voice, but said nothing.

There was another uncomfortable silence until Ichigo broke it unceremoniously.

"Toushirou, why would those three want you?"

Any other time, Hitsugaya would have sent an icy look and a correction concerning the use of his first name, but now he did not even glare. Momo found this very worrying, from her place in the rows.

"I don't know why. I don't know... Maybe they..."

Htsugaya shivered again, closing his eyes, and trailed off without finishing his sentence.

Bursts of whispers and mutters spread quietly through the hall, like rustling plum blossoms, as the captains and the few lieutenants discussed amongst themselves. After a short amount of time, it was resolved that no precautions would be made until the three showed up again and others witnessed it, and until it was made clear that they meant harm.

Yamamoto thumped his staff against the floor and announced the meeting finished and dismissed everyone.

Kuchiki Byakuya walked slowly towards Ichigo and Rukia, who were close together in a murmured conversation with each other. He did not like how close they were.

His slate grey eyes narrowed slightly in dislike as he paused in front of them. It took a moment for them to raise their eyes.

"Nii-sama!" cried Rukia, and she bowed her head, while Ichigo simply gave a nod.

Byakuya focused on him. "Kurosaki Ichigo..." he began slowly, voice low. "Why are you here?"

Ichigo scowled and stood straight, their eyes meeting. "I'm here because Ukitake invited me in, that's why."

Byakuya stared at him levelly. "Distance yourselves slightly, if you please," he said, and swept around to leave First Division, white scarf fluttering and trailing out behind him. Ichigo snorted, receiving a hard nudge from Rukia, and nudged her back, both suddenly erupting into a fit of suppressed laughter. Neither of them moved in the slightest.

-

"Shiro-chan! Shiro-chan!"

Hitsugaya turned slowly, blinking as the figure of a small dark-brown-haired girl became clear. Hinamori Momo waved at him cheerfully as she ran lightly up the path to his side.

"Hinamori..."

"Hi!" she said brightly. "Where are you going?"

"Back to Tenth Division," he muttered, eyes down at the ground.

"I'll walk with you until I get to Fifth," she replied, smiling and trying to get him to brighten up.

He only grunted, face like stone.

She inspected her childhood friend's face, so dulled and different, and thought for a moment before talking again.

"Um, is everything okay, Shiro-chan?"

He glanced at her, and she was shocked by the look in his eyes. Pain and confusion radiated off of his beautiful turquoise eyes, straight into her soft ochre ones.

Something was terribly wrong with him, indeed.

"Tell me," she breathed.

"You don't need to know," he growled, and made to continue walking. Momo grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back, gazing fiercely into his face.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"There's something about those three that you aren't talking about, Hitsugaya-taichou."

He shivered and looked away.

"I think," he whispered, "I think they want me because I belong to them."

Momo stared, mouth agape. "...What?"

"Their reiatsu is like mine... One of them touched me, and I saw the place inside myself... They want me... to become one of them... And it's plaguing me like a dream..."

To be honest, Momo could think of absolutely nothing to say. Her grips loosened, and he slipped away, wafting like a lost ghost down the path.

Her eyes tightened with pain for him. Frowning, she ran up to him again, and silently walked by his side until she reached her destination.

She could only imagine his inner turmoil.

-

A sing-song voice pattered through the trees of the frozen forest.

"Soon, soon, soon... Soon, soon, s-"

The small white-clothed child yelped in pain as clawed fingers surged around its neck and flung it back and forth through the air.

Karasu was raging again.

"Shut up!!" he roared, tightening his grip as Suzume squealed even louder. Strangled gasps flew from the child's mask, and it hit the frosted ground with a sickening thump, thrown down in fury by the raven-masked man. It lay there, still, afraid to move.

Karasu snorted, kicking some muddy snow onto its back and red eyes burning. He loped over to a fallen log and sat upon it, breathing out an angry flurry of frozen vapor.

Tall Fukurou stood watching, mask pale and serene. Cruel thin white fingers twiddled themselves like panicked butterflies before her chest. The dark pits of her mask became lighter as she upturned her face to the sky, white robes billowing out from a sudden icy breeze. Hers, perhaps.

"I am sick of waiting," snarled Karasu from his place on the log. His claws grew longer and he ripped up the white, crunchy bark furiously.

The emotionless, hollow-eyed mask of Fukurou turned to look at him.

"Patience," she sang. "He will come. Sooner or later, he will leave the stone, and then we will have him."

She purred slightly, heartless fingers intertwining.

"We are the Frost People, after all, and our plain of ice is better than his."

-

_A/N: Hopefully things will get more active in the next chapter._


	4. Their Names Are Karasu,

_A/N: Well, this was, again, really fun to write. Enjoy!_

-

**Chapter 4: Their Names Are Karasu,**

Hitsugaya flopped down wearily into his seat in the Tenth Division office, giving a heavy sigh. Matsumoto Rangiku raised her head, a blank look on her face. She was lounging lazily on the couch, reading a fashion magazine from the real world and munching on rice crackers. There was a hefty-looking bag set beside her.

"Taichou~, you look so tired!"

He snorted and pretended to be working hard on his paperwork, shuffling busily through the piles.

Rangiku was silent for a second before a smile stretched wide across her face. "Oh, Taichou, I'm going to be leaving for a trip with Gin-chan in a few hours. I won't be back in a few days. I worked extra hard on my paperwork today, so you won't have as much to do while I'm away!" She sounded extremely happy, and Hitsugaya thought for a moment how carefree and irresponsible his lieutenant could be. He had half the mind to tell her off for not letting him know sooner, but couldn't find the energy for it, and gave up after opening his mouth a few times.

Instead, he just muttered a faint "have fun" and dipped his head low towards his paperwork.

Rangiku hummed to herself and languidly flipped the pages of the magazine.

-

"So?"

"So, what?"

"Aren't you gonna ask him?"

"I- Well-"

"We're getting close."

"-I don't know-"

"We're getting _really_ close."

"-I'm not sure... He might-"

"Rukia, we're here."

"...Darn."

"Okay, geez, Rukia! What're you afraid of?"

"I'm not afraid, Ichigo! I'm just not sure if I really should-"

"WIMP!"

"Hey! Shut up!"

"Look, he's not gonna go all 'chire' on you, 'kay? Just go and tell him. You want to become a seated officer, right?"

"Well... yes..."

"Then _go!_" Ichigo firmly shoved her down the path towards Sixth Division, making her stagger and yelp out a complaint.

Then she stopped and looked up at the dark imposing mansion of Kuchiki Byakuya. Clenching her little hands into fists, she stiffly and nervously marched forward. She could feel the eyes of Ichigo on her; she imagined them, warm like autumn's leaves, and that made her feel a little better.

-

"I'm leaving now, Taichou! I'll miss you!~"

Hitsugaya sighed and grunted a goodbye, his desk still covered with paperwork that was both due and overdue. Stupid Matsumoto. She had barely done anything.

His mind was heavy like lead. The characters on the papers swam before his eyes, and he closed them, trying to halt all the impeding thoughts.

Thoughts of ice, and cold things, and cold hands, and white fingers, and white clothes, and bird masks, and plains of ice, and-

He let out a cry, and the thoughts scattered. There, it had happened again.

He thumped at the desk in frustration and stood up. He was simply unable to do anymore paperwork now; he needed fresh air to clear his head. Yes, that was it. Some fresh air and a walk outside. Maybe another patrol...

Resolute, he stepped outside his office, and walked quietly down the halls, not at all expecting the dark-brown-haired girl to come running up to him again.

"Oh, Shiro-chan!" cried Momo. "What good timing!"

"Hinamori," murmured Hitsugaya, "what is it now?"

"I got some free time, and I was wondering if you'd like to go on a patrol together, since there's been quite a lot of hollows lately in some places," she announced joyfully. "See, I even brought dinner." She held up a large cloth-wrapped basket.

Indeed, what good timing. A patrol together, and a picnic...

_Why not?_

He nodded dumbly, forcing a small smile. It would be good to have company.

Momo smiled, eyes squeezing up happily. She took his limp hand and led him out of the building, and then out towards the Western Gate.

She knew that it was probably the safest direction.

-

Rukia looked up, gulping slightly at the stern figure of her brother-in-law. She was kneeling respectfully on the tatami floor, hands folded slightly over her legs.

Byakuya said nothing and simply stared at her for a moment. Sweat caused her hands to become slippery as she fought to stay calm.

"What brings you here, Rukia?" asked Byakuya quietly.

"Nii-sama..."

Rukia abruptly bent over, bowing low with her head nearly touching the floor, her hands flat and her elbows out.

"Please, Nii-sama, I wish to become a seated officer!"

His eyes narrowed. "It is far too dangerous. I have told you before."

"But... Nii-sama-"

"If that is all, you are dismissed, Rukia."

"Nii-sama!"

Her shout caused him to pause and turn around. Slate grey met violet. Her eyes were livid, angry and frustrated and shimmering with pain.

"I am tired, Nii-sama! I am tired of you deciding all that I can do and what I cannot do. I want to become a seated officer! You say it is too dangerous? Who was it that fought in the Winter War? Who was it that was nearly killed, more than once? I cannot become a seated officer, because it is too dangerous?! I am not a seated officer and already I have been in so much danger! I wish for this, Nii-sama! I am strong enough! Surely you know!"

She took a deep, stuttering breath, ashamed of her loud outburst. Her eyes welled up with tears and she closed them tightly, dreading if they spilled forth.

"I am not a weak child anymore, Nii-sama," she whispered, and held her breath for Byakuya's reply.

There was a long silence. Rukia kept her head down, afraid to look at the expression on his face.

"Rukia..."

She trembled like a wilting flower.

"...if this is really what you wish..."

Her eyes brightened with hope.

"...then you may apply for a seat."

Rukia tried to comprehend the meaning of these words for a few seconds before it finally hit her that he had actually given her permission.

This realization struck her with so much happiness that new tears welled up, ones of joy and gratitude, and she bowed even lower, sputtering strings of thanks and appreciation. Then she leapt up, bowed again, and dashed out the door, eager to return to Ichigo.

Ichigo was quite bewildered, seeing Rukia run towards him at full speed with tears running down her cheeks. At first he thought that it had gone badly and that she was crying from rejection, but then he saw the wide smile on her face, and heard her blurry cries of elation.

"Ichigo! Ichigo! I'm a- I can- He allowed- Ichigo!"

The small shinigami ran circles around him, laughing and crying at the same time. Finally she stopped, facing him, eyes glittering and wet. She tugged on his sleeve and grinned, words unable to pass her lips anymore.

He grinned back. "See, I told you he'd allow it," he teased, and she laughed.

"So what're you gonna do now?"

"I have to ask Ukitake-taichou now, and he can decide whether I am strong enough and which seat I can get... But I think I will do that later," said Rukia, beaming.

"So...?"

"Let's go on a patrol, Ichigo. I need to clear my head a little bit of all this jumbled up happiness," she giggled, and nearly hopped and skipped her way towards the Eastern Gate.

-

Karasu's head snapped up, his eyes like blood that glowed and smoldered. He stood, and his claws grew as long as daggers, shining when the winter light hit the serrated edges.

Behind him stood tall Fukurou, and beside her, little Suzume, craning its head to the sky.

The owl-masked woman lifted her beautiful white sickle from her shoulder, twisting it to watch it cut the mist with its razor edge.

"He has stepped," she whispered, her breath keening through the frosted air. "At last, he has stepped from the fake, dead stone." She paused. "What... what is this other presence? It is closer than the boy..."

The child hopped up onto an ice-covered branch, and stood half-crouched, tasting the air. "Another," it sang at last, and Karasu's eyes burned.

"I feel it," he growled. "There is another."

"Indeed," sighed Fukurou. Her white fingers twiddled and scuttled excitedly.

"They will like our plain of ice," sneered the raven. He was breathing heavily with anticipation, thrilled at the appearance of another. His iced talons grew even longer still, and they clacked and chittered against each other, quivering rhythmically.

"Will you take the boy?" asked Fukurou.

Karasu laughed, the sound ripping through the trees. "Yes, I will. And will you take the girl?"

Another gentle coo escaped from the pale, placid mask. "Yes. Suzume, come."

The Frost People separated ways, gone in a moment, and all that was left to suggest they had been there was the white, iced forest and the cold, cold wind.

-

Momo couldn't help but be worried from the way Shiro-chan was acting. He was still so sad-looking, and distracted all the time, as if there was something preoccupying his mind. _It must be about those three funny people he met,_ she thought, and tried to act her usual cheerful self around him.

She still could not get him to smile. It had been like this, all day.

And she was still worried, no matter what.

They traveled in silence through the hills, alert for the presence of hollows or anything else. Momo had tried numerous times to start a conversation, to no avail.

She suddenly realized how empty he felt. Like a shell.

It made her shudder.

Hitsugaya finally noticed this, and he blinked a couple times, trying to rid his mind yet again of cold white things. He tilted his head slightly and asked, "Are you cold, Hinamori?"

She started, and then giggled nervously. "Nuh-uh, not at all. I'm fine!"

He gave a nod, and faced forward again. Momo saw the cloud pass over his turquoise eyes and darken them once more.

They were both traveling sluggishly through the air, flying on the spirit particles over the rolling hills of the East. Their robes fluttered softly, and Momo imagined themselves as looking like black butterflies from below, two gliding shadows in the sky. She glanced down, wanting to confirm how high up they were, and saw the white speck.

_That's funny,_ she thought. _Why's there a bit of snow in just one place?..._

Then the bit of snow moved.

She squinted her eyes, unable to make it out. Maybe it was just a trick of the light, or some kind of white animal.

The white speck disappeared. Confused, she looked this way and that, and saw it reappear, ahead of them now.

Then she felt the reiatsu. All this time, she had thought it was simply Shiro-chan's, since it was cold and kind of unwelcoming, but now she realized how cruel it was. How powerful, and heartless.

Shiro-chan was never heartless.

She said to Hitsugaya, "There's something weird down there!"

He looked down, and his eyes widened. A gasp flung itself out of his mouth, and he began to fall, his control of the spirit particles lost. Momo shouted in alarm and dove to catch him, managing to grasp a hand right before they hit the ground.

"What's wrong, Shiro-chan?!" she cried, tugging on his arms. He was trembling and shaking all over, struggling to stand up. He croaked something inaudible, and Momo leaned in close, straining to hear his words.

"Run... Hina... mori..."

And then Karasu was there. His laugh shattered through the air as the merciless claws clacked over to Hitsugaya's head, seeking the white hair to catch hold of.

Then Hyourinmaru was out, the steel fighting against the talons in a loud clash. Momo had already drawn Tobiume, but was still too shocked to do anything against the scary masked man all in white. She stared at how the grass beneath the man's clawed feet withered and died, laced with frost.

Hitsugaya fought to keep his blade up, and fought against the cold that was creeping up through his arms and legs. He roared and let Hyourinmaru fly, the dragon exploding out in a massive burst of shining ice and reiatsu.

Karasu put out a hand. The claws had gone, all at once, and the plain bony fingers pressed against the full body and force of Hyourinmaru.

Hyourinmaru screamed.

Alarm shot through Hitsugaya. He watched, transfixed, as his precious Zanpakutou and companion writhed and twisted, screaming in agony and loss. He leapt back, trying to draw the dragon away, trying to save it from its pain, and called its name to bring it back into the steel.

The man snickered. Though Hitsugaya was now quite a distance away, Karasu then was suddenly, simply, ridiculously there; not there for a moment, and all of a sudden, _just there._ The red eyes glowed intensely, filled with callous delight. His masked head dipped low to the boy's height, the cruel point of the beak nearly grazing Hitsugaya's nose. The man laughed a laugh that hacked its way to his ears.

Momo tensed and prepared to leap at the unguarded back of the medium-sized man, mouth opening to declare her sword's name.

Time slowed. The same white hand that had tortured Hyourinmaru now was on Hitsugaya's forehead. His beautiful turquoise eyes flickered towards Momo, wide with fear-

-she began to run towards them, blade raised high-

And they were gone.

She gasped and staggered, tumbling to a halt. She spun around, frantically searching for any trace of Shiro-chan or the weird man's reiatsu, and found none.

None at all.

Momo screamed Hitsugaya Toushirou's name, fell to her knees, and cried.

-

_A/N: Poor Momo.... :( .... Reviews are always always welcome!_

_Hmm... Maybe I should draw my three villains, since I'm in love with them._


	5. Fukurou, and Suzume

_A/N: Another chapter after a long delay. Enjoy!_

-

**Chapter 5: Fukurou, and Suzume**

Deep in the forests cloaking the East, two voices engaged in rapid discourse, loud and raucous in the silence of the dark trees.

"Come on, slowpoke!"

"Shut up, Ichigo! You're supposed to go slow on patrols, you know!"

"Huh, I bet you're just saying that because you can't go any faster."

"Oh yeah?! Well, you can just go and ask any taichou, and they'll-"

Rukia and Ichigo both stopped in midair (and in Rukia's case, mid-sentence), bodies tense and air filled with foreboding. They looked at each other, a single glance enough to send a thousand words of understanding between them, and they both knew something was wrong.

Inside the small shinigami, the pale beautiful woman named Sode no Shirayuki stirred.

They both felt the reiatsu instantaneously. Ichigo, on the other hand, couldn't quite tell, not being the best at sensing reiatsu. Rukia, having known him for so long, was readily aware of this, and so she addressed him and told him of the oddness of the reiatsu.

"It's cold, Ichigo. Like ice. But crueler."

"...what?" A look of utter shock and disbelief crossed his face.

"Oh. Oh, no."

The realization hit them both concurrently, like an explosion in their faces, and their hearts drummed loud and fast as Ichigo grabbed her by the hand and they both shunpoed back the way they had come. The awkwardness of the action did not cross either of their minds for even a moment. They were both far too busy shunpoeing, running, and leaping off of branches to pay any mind to it.

"I thought it was part of yours!" yelled Ichigo as he made a sharp curve around a protruding bough. "The reiatsu, I mean!"

"What?!"

"Because it was icy and everything! But something was wrong-"

"I know! Isn't this-"

"It is! Toushirou said-"

Rukia dragged him back suddenly, his hand nearly pulling itself out of its socket. He was about to turn and ask, in a greatly annoyed voice, why in Soul Society had she tried to injure him like that, when the two white figures appeared before them. They appeared without a flash, without a puff of smoke, without any fraying at the edges. They simply _appeared_, without warning, without nothing at all.

The two froze. Hands flew to hilts in a rustle of cloth.

Serene Fukurou gazed at them in silence, thin white hands resting elegantly on the arcing blade of her sickle. _So this is the girl..._ she mused, dark eyeholes laid on the black-haired shinigami with violet eyes. _She is worthy, indeed..._

Suzume giggled, picking at the frost already forming beneath them on the branch.

Ichigo growled and drew Zangetsu in a flutter of white wrapping.

"What do you want? What are you?" he demanded, his large blade already out and ready.

Beside him, Rukia began to draw Shirayuki as well, eyes hard and suspicious.

Fukurou held up a hand and spoke, her tranquil voice lacing softly, like frost, over the branches and through the leaves that had already begun to wither and die.

"We have come for the girl."

Ichigo's expression hardened. "Sorry, you're not getting her."

Now Fukurou ignored him, and turned to Rukia. "What is your name?" she cooed, clasping her hands delicately.

Rukia said nothing and only tightened her grip on her sword.

"Come with us, girl," sang the owl-masked woman. "You belong with us... You are of ice. We are too. Ice needs many things... Death, mostly. We need you, dear ice-girl, to help us find what we'd like... Things we like, to keep going..." Here she paused, and gave a soft little sigh before continuing. "There was once a time, so long ago, when the world was covered in ice... That was a haven, oh, yes, such a good time... There were so many things, dying here and there, so that we were always satisfied, because the ice reigned and gave us pleasure so easily.

"Then the ice was gone... The sun worked against us, and washed so many of us away... There are only a few of us left, now... Little girl, join us..." She reached out a graceful hand imploringly, cold breezes washing across the fingers and making Rukia shiver. "We need you... We need help... Let us make ice reign once again, dear girl. There, in that world of ice, you will feel welcome and at home. You will never feel sadness or loneliness ever again... You will always be satisfied, from the deaths we will have..."

The masked head tilted slightly, gently, softly. Rukia gritted her teeth, and her grip on Shirayuki faltered.

"Drop your blade, dear girl. It will only be a burden... Drop it, and come here... Take your time..."

She could say no more, for Ichigo was against her in a clash, the white sickle and the large blade bouncing off of each other violently. He gave a roar of fury. How dare this thing try to hypnotize Rukia or whatever! He didn't _care_, he just wanted this creepy lady to go away!

Far too late, he realized his mistake. A cold air of smugness surrounded Fukurou as Ichigo turned and saw the child's small white hand placed on Rukia's forehead...

Her eyes were wide, filled with something like terror, confusion, and anguish all together. Suzume chortled and pressed harder.

Ichigo raced over, her name leaping out of his mouth. Time slowed.

Little by little, Shirayuki slipped out of her hand. It spun as it fell, and clattered to the frozen ground-

-Fukurou was there already-

-Rukia turned and looked at him with _that look-_

And they were gone.

Ichigo skidded to a halt, dumbfounded. "Rukia?..." he called, unable to believe it, not wanting to believe it.

She couldn't be gone. Not just like that.

"Rukia!..." he clamored. "Rukia... Rukiaa!!"

Over and over, he called her name, until his voice was ragged and the sobs swallowed it. He descended, defeated, to her fallen blade, lonely and forlorn upon the iced forest floor. He picked it up and held it tight. He stayed there, crouched with the sword in his hands, until he felt a quiet touch on his shoulder, and looked up with shadowed eyes at Kyouraku Shunsui.

"I believe I know what happened," said the grizzled man gravely, the serious tone unfitting. "We must return to Seireitei, Ichigo-kun. Hitsugaya has met the same fate as Kuchiki."

Ichigo did not reply; he was far too devastated.

-

Another meeting was called, causing some captains to become irritated; this was the second meeting in a day, after all, and evening was quickly approaching, thoughts of food along with it. But news like this spreads quickly, and spread quickly it did.

When Ichigo and Kyouraku reached Seireitei, action was already being taken to protect the vicinities, and shinigami were being sent as guards around the walls. A muted state of panic radiated from every shinigami; the news of abduction had rattled them all, especially with one abductee being a renowned captain.

Yamamoto thumped his staff heavily against the polished wooden floor of First Division, the sound weighted with distress. The captains and scattered lieutenants stood to attention, Momo's face haunted and twisted up, Ichigo's a mixture of anger and bitterness.

Yamamoto hesitated before beginning.

"It has come to my attention that our Tenth Division captain, Hitsugaya Toushirou, and a shinigami of 13th Division, Kuchiki Rukia, were abducted less than an hour ago."

Collective cries of confusion spread through the assembled. Byakuya's eyes widened with horror, and Momo gave a strangled whimper. It was then that Ichigo slowly realized that Ukitake was not among the rows. He leaned towards Kyouraku beside him.

"Where's Ukitake-san?"

"Fallen ill again, poor thing." He tipped his hat slightly, a sad smile on his face. "Don't worry, he already knows..."

"By whom were they abducted?" cried Soi Fon towards Yamamoto.

"The very same creatures that Hitsugaya-taichou had said to have met. Now we have witnesses..."

The old captain raised his head slightly and gazed first at Momo, then at Ichigo.

"Lieutenant Hinamori has already informed me of how the events occurred. A person with a raven's mask. Just a moment - then they were gone. Gone before anything could be done. Is that how it went with Kuchiki, Kurosaki?"

Ichigo choked for a few moments before finally managing to speak. "Yeah... Except there were two, a lady with an owl's mask and a midget one, like a kid." He took a deep breath before continuing. "The kid touched its hand to her forehead... and then the lady went over there, and they were all gone."

There was a short, contemplative silence until Komamura spoke up.

"Who will be sent to rescue them? Surely a team of-"

"No."

Everybody stared at Yamamoto with disbelief.

"Why, sir?" cried Momo, tears in her eyes. Ichigo gaped, too horrified to even be angry.

Emotionless, the elderly man continued. "We still know little of these strange creatures. There may be many more of them, ready to take away more of our shinigami. I simply cannot risk sending out a whole team... And we are already without four captains, plus one in his sickbed. All energy must be used to protect Seireitei."

_"Sir!!"_

All heads whirled to look at Kurosaki Ichigo.

His jaw was set and his fists were clenched as he addressed Yamamoto.

"If you can't spare a rescue team... at least spare me."

Fiery determination burned in his hazel eyes. "I have to save Rukia. More than anything, I have to save her. And Toushirou, too... He's a friend."

There was a pause before Momo stepped forwards hesitantly.

"Please, let me go as well, sir," she asked imploringly. "I need to go for Shiro - Hitsugaya-kun. Please, just let us the two of us go, to rescue them."

Ichigo glanced at the small, fragile-looking girl beside him, and marveled at her bravery.

A small sigh escaped from the old man's lips as he slowly nodded, subdued.

"Then I allow it. Good luck to you both."

-

Ichigo wasted no time in getting ready to leave. Speed was of the essence; any moment now, Rukia could be hurt, dying, dead even - oh, no, he mustn't think of it! He must only hurry, hurry, hurry, and make sure he was all ready by tonight... He grabbed the essentials of traveling: a tent, a sleeping bag, loads of food and tools for basic living - ugh, how long was he even going to be traveling? He had no idea at all how far away Rukia and Toushirou were. Frustration clawed at him. This would have to do.

His hands trembled when he picked up Sode no Shirayuki, sleeping in a spare sheath, and tucked her gently into a corner of his bag. He would carry her on himself, later, while traveling.

By the time he was finished packing, night had fallen and Seireitei was in the midst of dinnertime. He was to leave tomorrow at dawn, after meeting Toushirou's friend (what was her name? Hinamori?) out by the Eastern Gate.

There was one more thing to do.

Breathing a heavy sigh, he left his room to find Ukitake.

Fourth Division was unusually quiet; many shinigami were out having meals or already in their beds, and only a few black-clothed figures wandered through the corridors, taking short furtive glances at Ichigo.

He found Kotetsu Isane scurrying busily about, and stopped her, asking where he could find Ukitake-san. The tall young woman blinked and thought for a moment, finally giving him rather complicated instructions. It took Ichigo quite a while to find the right room.

The door was slightly ajar. He listened, and hearing the muted voices of Unohana and Ukitake, slowly opened the door.

Unohana was seated at Ukitake's bedside, taking rapid notes on a clipboard. Ukitake quickly noticed Ichigo standing in the doorway, and his expression brightened.

"Hullo, Kurosaki-san -" he began, breaking off into a fit of coughs. Unohana stood up, giving Ichigo a steady (and very intimidating) gaze, and asked him why he was here and if his business was short, because Ukitake was not feeling very good and required a very restful evening.

Ichigo nervously assured her that he would not be very long. Unohana nodded sternly and left the room.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he took the seat by the bed.

"Ukitake-san..."

"You look glum," commented the captain. His expression softened. "It's Kuchiki, eh?"

"Yeah..."

"I'm sorry I can't go along to help-" Another fit of coughing caught him, and it took a moment for it to subside.

Ichigo bowed his head. "You shouldn't talk too much... Or... You don't need to." His fingers clutched at the cloth on his knees. "I just want you to listen."

Ukitake nodded, grateful, for talking made his throat itch, and Ichigo continued.

"'Kay, well... Um... I guess... I'm just feeling really bad and hopeless right now... Like... I couldn't do anything - no, I didn't do anything. I didn't protect her. I feel horrible. She's gone because of my stupid mistake... I couldn't hold myself back, and attacked the lady, and because of that, I wasn't watching Rukia anymore, and the little midget got her... I'm so stupid. I can't control myself when I need to... It's all because of me. It's always because of me. Nearly every time she gets in trouble, it's because of me, or for me, and it never seems to be the other way around - even though that's what I want it to be. I want to risk my life for her."

"You're doing that, though."

"What?"

"Risking your life for her. Aren't you?"

There was a pause as he coughed. "Every time you go to save her, you're risking your life for her." He smiled. "Right?"

Ichigo blinked dubiously. "Well... I guess so..."

"And now you're going to save her again," said Ukitake cheerfully. "What would she do without you?" Another pause of coughing. "And anyway, she wouldn't want you to blame yourself like this. Everybody makes mistakes."

"Thanks, Ukitake-san."

"Bring her back, okay? I was just planning to give her a seat, poor girl."

Ichigo nodded. "I promise."

-

Far from Seireitei, in the uncharted Northwest, through dark forests and night-black hills, there was ice. A ribbon of glowing silver-white, the ice formed a path, and the path lead to a massive mountain shadowed against the dark blue felt of the sky.

Three white-clothed figures traversed the path of ice, quick and sleek.

Fukurou carried the limp form of a shinigami, her black hair swaying from the swift marching. Karasu dragged along an equally limp form of a boy, captain's cloak in tatters, and unceremoniously the rocky ground thudded against his body.

Little Suzume skipped along behind them, and having invented a game, it hopped up and down and tried to jab at Rukia's head with a little spike of ice.

"They sleep well," murmured Fukurou.

"As expected," growled Karasu. "They have both lost part of their souls."

In his dirty, cruel claws, he clutched the sword called Hyourinmaru. The steel glimmered dully, lost and hopeless, and the dragon within resided in a place of gloom and despair.

"It is better for all of us," sang the owl, "as those missing parts would have caused them to refuse our offer."

"Once they don their masks, they will have no need of these heavy useless things."

"Indeed. A soul is _such_ a heavy burden."

And behind them, Suzume chortled with glee.

-

Rukia's inner world was very different than Hitsugaya's. His was the plain of ice.

Hers was far more beautiful.

Hers was a wide ledge on the side of a sheer mountain, covered in puffs of snow. All around wafted frosty mists, cloaking what lay below the ledge.

And most beautiful of all was the waterfall.

There, frozen forever in a state of majestic descent, the water was crystallized, sparkling with a million colors. Icicles hung from it everywhere, and all the little drips and stray streams could be seen leading away from it, each glittering like a jewel. Shirayuki had created this work of breathtaking art herself.

Behind the waterfall was a small cave. Snowstorms were frequent here in Rukia's mind, as she was prone to emotional turmoil. Inside the cave were small hollows and nooks, crafted with care to make comfortable seats and restful lounges. Above hung an elaborate chandelier of icicles, decorated with carved ice flowers; morning glory, perhaps.

At night, a full moon would rise, and cast its pale blue glow. The ice would come alive then, and shimmer with delight, and create shows of translucent color for the pale, noble lady to watch.

Shirayuki was now gone, torn away from this place and leaving behind her delicate work, for the blade was too far from Rukia.

And Fukurou had already been here, inspecting Rukia's inner world. And air of cruelty still loitered heavily, especially near the waterfall, as that was where she had lingered longest.

It would take much time and effort to copy this elaborate place. Oh, yes, much time and effort.

But Fukurou was patient, after all.

-

_A/N: Hmm, things are getting interesting._


	6. And as they Lure the Captured In,

_A/N: At last, another chapter._

-

**Chapter 6: And as they Lure the Captured In,**

When Rukia and Hitsugaya found themselves conscious, they were, at first, completely and utterly lost.

Rukia floated around in a pitch-black emptiness for many hours, thinking slowly and trying to regain sanity. Hitsugaya spent those hours struggling to open his eyes, and struggling to remember who he was.

It took them both half a day to finally lift their heavy eyelids, and even then, they were still lost and confused.

And the first thing they both felt was indescribable loss.

Like Fukurou had mentioned, Shirayuki and Hyourinmaru had been taken away from them. Now the captured two were missing a vital part of their souls, and that was the first heavy blow of realization.

After that, they fought to remember other things they held dear; people, places, memories. Rukia saw a wafting image of an orange-haired young man. Hitsugaya recalled a laughing girl.

Then they moved their focus towards their surroundings, and their physical states.

They were both confined in a cavern carved of ice, and they lay face-up on the freezing floor. A passage, luminescent bright blue from the thick ice, lead deep into the solid walls. Every breath showed itself as a puff of vapor, and though the temperature was surely well below zero, neither Rukia nor Hitsugaya felt it.

Rukia twitched an arm, expecting it to be chained or tethered to the icy floor, but to her surprise, it was not. She sat up slowly, afraid that something would hurt, and found herself able to look around freely. _Strange,_ she thought weakly, and moved back slightly so that she could prop herself up against a wall of ice behind her. She wondered why she was here, in this cavern of ice. She could remember traveling through a forest with... Ichigo... yes, that was his name, and they suddenly stopped, and panicked, and for some reason began turning back. Then,

...

Then...

Confused, she sifted through the recent events one by one, searching for something to fill the missing piece. Something had happened to lead her here, to the now. It was very strange, and quite disturbing, to say the least, to be unable to remember what.

She looked down at her hands. They were very white. She watched them, as if in a dream, as they crawled up her waist to the empty scabbard of her zanpakutou. White curling fingers grasped the edges and sought for the plaid, bound hilt and the flash of steel. Feeling empty, she dropped her hands limply to her sides, and breathed a heavy, frosted sigh of mourning.

Beside her, Hitsugaya wearily sat up as well. His brilliant turquoise eyes flickered to the black-haired shinigami.

"Kuchiki?"

Her head snapped up. "Oh... Hitsugaya-taichou."

"What... what happened?"

The enormity of the question filled the silence thickly, like oil or rotting cream.

"I'm sorry," murmured Rukia at last. "I don't know, sir."

A pause. Then, "I see."

"You know," he continued, "I remember everything up to a certain point - and then, it's completely gone until now. Until I woke up." He thought for a moment. "Looking from the events before and after, it was something... unpleasant..."

Rukia nodded. "Yes, that's how it is with me, too. You see-"

Abruptly, she stopped, as a small child dressed in white-blue robes dashed into the cavern, skidded to a halt, stared, turned, and dashed away again. It was wearing a white finch's mask.

Rukia and Hitsugaya gazed in its direction, mystified, both greatly bothered by an air of familiarity.

Hitsugaya staggered upwards, his haori's shredded edges swinging to and fro, like limp, broken tongues or arms. His knuckles were white as he gripped the ice wall and pulled himself up. He did not feel the multitudes of bruises covering his body; it was far too cold.

Slightly delirious, he blinked blearily and instinctively reached for his zanpakutou, as he always did in troubling times. Finding no hilt nor scabbard, he ground his teeth and prayed for the safety of his lifetime companion.

This was how Hitsugaya mourned: quietly and desolately.

He was rudely interrupted by the sudden appearance of the dreaded three. Impassive, they stood at the opening of another ice tunnel leading far away, the lady with the owl's mask, the man with the raven's, and the child again. Subconsciously, Rukia and Hitsugaya tensed. Something flickered in the back of their minds; something that told them that these three were not to be trusted.

And then, the three approached.

They were all weaponless, and walked slowly, as if to avoid frightening the two shinigami. _They don't wish to scare us,_ thought Rukia. _We are like wild animals that need to be tamed._ The idea made her shiver.

"Who are you?" demanded Hitsugaya, voice hoarse. "Where is this?"

"We are the Frost People," said Fukurou gently, voice like softened butter. "You have nothing to fear. This is our home. Do not worry, your homes are only a little ways away."

"...our homes?"

"Yes."

"She spent long hours making them," snarled Karasu from her side. "You should appreciate her hard work."

"Come with us," cooed the woman. She rubbed her thin white hands together, fingers scuttling like scorpion's legs. "We hope you will like your new homes, and that we can all be a nice family." She turned. So did Karasu, and Suzume, and they all walked away, slowly, slowly, through yet another tunnel.

Rukia and Hitsugaya gave each other looks.

Then Rukia heaved herself up and the two staggered to the tunnel, and began to follow the Frost People, slowly... slowly...

-

Hinamori Momo sighed and checked the time for the fourth time. The sun had just appeared, but they were supposed to have left already, and even now something horrid could be happening to poor Shiro-chan -

"Hey! You! Sorry I'm late!"

Her eyes found the running figure of a young man, his orange hair distinctively standing out from its surroundings.

"Was it - was it Hinamori?" huffed Ichigo.

"Oh, er, yes," she stammered. "And you... It's Kurosaki-san, right?"

"Yeah, but you can just call me Ichigo."

"Um... All right then, Ichigo-san, I guess we should be heading off?"

"Oh, yes," said Ichigo, suddenly serious with thoughts of Rukia in his mind. The transformation surprised Momo immensely. The next minute, they were both in the air, with Momo in the lead, sensing for reiatsu. Only small traces fluttered weakly here and there, and even with her defined talents, it was difficult to grasp the abductees' location.

In the end, they were headed towards a magnificent Northwest mountain, and Momo could only hope that she had not made a mistake. The feedback was good, though. The traces of reiatsu continued as they traveled in that direction, so they both felt confident that Rukia and Hitsugaya lay somewhere in or near the huge mountain.

Midday approached. Weary, they both felt it a good time to stop and rest, landing at a clearing deep in a lush wood. Thousands of squeaks, croaks, and guttural cries resonated through the trees. Creatures scurried about, deep in the moist vegetation, and moss hung in beards from the chins of oaks and old pines. The air was filled with wild, unfamiliar sounds, and Momo felt exceptionally tense - not to mention that during the journey, neither of them had spoken a conversational word to break the awkward silence between them.

Ichigo felt more or less the same way. What was he supposed to do, begin chatting with a shinigami he barely knew? What was there to talk about?

The silence was deafening. He hated this. If only Rukia was here - something like this never happened between them. They would be busy bickering, or discussing, or simply traveling in comfortable silence; _comfortable,_ mind. He missed her even more.

He tried to busy himself with bringing out some water and small food supplies, while Momo laid out some cloth to serve as a table. They ate quietly.

At the end of the meal, Momo cleared her throat and mustered up her courage to begin a conversation.

"I... I hope they're all right, Ichigo-san."

"Y-Yeah." He paused, and a deep look of pain flashed across his face. Then there was a moment of anger, which quickly faded back to his regular scowl. Momo felt a pang, seeing that face. It reminded her of how Shiro-chan felt after Aizen had stabbed her - he had told her, after the Winter War. And even during the War itself, he had made that face whenever he looked at her.

Because of this, she immediately understood Ichigo's loss. She felt less tense with the knowledge that he, too, had humane feelings inside him - he was no longer the distant "hero", the powerful ally and scowling menace with a hollow inside.

"We'll save them," she murmured, to assure both of them. "We will."

Ichigo only nodded as they leapt off to continue their journey.

-

Kurotsuchi Mayuri gave a screech of delight as his massive computer gave a positive bleep assuring him that his theory was correct. Thrilled, he began typing furiously into a new document laying out his discovered data.

---begin---document01---11--[start][br][tab]

---------THE INCIDENT OF THE ABDUCTION OF HITSUGAYA TOUSHIROU AND KUCHIKI RUKIA - AS OF MID-SPRING OF THE 15TH YEAR AFTER THE WINTER WAR, IT HAS BEEN DEFINED WHAT THE ABDUCTORS EXACTLY ARE.[br]

--0000000011-1111010101110-transmitting--------01--loading---24%--87%---

---complete----110--\

COLD REIATSU - CRUEL - HITSUGAYA FEELING FAMILIARITY - REMNANTS OF ICE LEFT AT SCENES OF CRIME - ESSENTIALLY, THE ABDUCTORS ARE OF ICE.

THEY ARE ALSO ESSENTIALLY MADE FROM DEATH - OR A FUNCTION OF DEATH. ICE AND DEATH HAVE A CLOSE RELATIONSHIP.[br]

-0--11-

BECAUSE OF THIS KNOWN FACT, THE ANSWER WAS GIVEN FOR WHY THE ABDUCTORS DISLIKE STEPPING INTO SEIREITEI. SEIREITEI IS NOT LIVING, IN A SENSE. THERE ARE FEW GARDENS OR PLACES WITH LIVING THINGS - THE ABDUCTORS DELIGHT IN THE TAKING OF LIVES, AND IF THERE IS NOTHING TO TAKE, THIS IS NOT PARTIAL TO THEM. THIS IS WHY THE ABDUCTORS LIKE THE WILD NATURAL AREAS SURROUNDING RUKONGAI.

Here, he stopped, fingers frozen in midair. Indeed, this was a great discovery, but what use was it all? All this new data only answered a small, insignificant question; one that had fueled his curiosity, and his curiosity only.

The scientist felt a well of disappointment. He slumped in his chair for a few minutes until he regained resolve, and began to rush around his lab once again, preparing for another experiment. Kurotsuchi, slightly insane as he was, did not rest for long.

-

Hitsugaya stared in awe at the sight beheld before them.

There was a plain of ice on one side, stretching as far as his eyes could see. Dead trees stood sparsely, and in the distance, pale blue mountains could be seen. The powdery snow and ice cracked beneath his feet and he felt a surge of wonderful safety and familiarity. This was where he belonged. This was the world inside of him, where he could be at peace.

This was also where he conversed with Hyourinmaru.

_Where is Hyourinmaru?_ he wondered, utterly confused until he remembered that Hyourinmaru was gone from him. The plain was empty.

_This is not the world inside of me,_ he thought bitterly. _Without Hyourinmaru, it can't be, ever._

Then he registered that he was indeed not diving deep inside himself with his eyes closed; his eyes were open, and he was in a strange place with three creepy people.

This plain of ice was a copy. A copy. _Wh...Why?..._ he thought, stricken.

Rukia, too, was silent with awe, but only at first.

After stepping towards the sparkling, frozen waterfall, and touching it, and watching it nick her fingers, something seemed horribly wrong with this place. The beauty is gone, she realized. There's only cruelty and shallow perfection left. The chandelier of carved ice flowers no longer held the imperfection of natural beauty. Each flower was sharp and jagged, with no notches or scratches; each was pure and smooth, and its petals shaped like knifes. They looked keen enough to cut with a single touch.

She shivered and hugged herself.

"Do you like them?" asked the lady, voice sweet and gentle with an unmistakable hint of menace.

"Oh... Oh, yes, it's... um... very nice. Thank you." Rukia forced a smile.

"I feel very safe here," droned Hitsugaya, trying to restrain his real emotions.

"Very good," sighed Fukurou.

_What if we had said no?_ they wondered.

"Such good children. Your masks will be ready later today, dears, and then you will finally be able to join us, and help us." Karasu nodded slowly beside her as she spoke.

For some reason, Rukia and Hitsugaya also nodded, and smiled enthusiastically. They could not stop themselves from doing it. It seemed perfectly natural to smile and nod enthusiastically. It seemed perfectly natural to believe that all these things were amazing wonderful fantastic things.

When the Frost People left them to be at peace in their "homes", Rukia and Hitsugaya felt a huge weight lift off of their shoulders, and their minds opened up a little.

"Hitsugaya-taichou..."

"It's fake," he said bluntly. Turquoise eyes glimmered with rage as they met with violet.

"I don't know why they're doing this," whispered Rukia. She sat down in the snow and crumbled it in her fingers. A faint line could be seen between her "home" and his.

Hitsugaya clawed at the ground. "Hyourinmaru," he muttered under his breath, and sat as well, on his side of the line.

"Perhaps we did something wrong, and now we are being punished this way," suggested Rukia.

Hitsugaya snorted. "What kind of punishment is this? Taking away your zanpakutou, being sickeningly nice to you, making a copy of your inner world..."

"Then what do we do?"

Hitsugaya was silent. He closed his eyes, and bowed his head, and the two did not speak for a long while.

Rukia wished that Ichigo was here. He would know what to do.

_I miss you,_ she called out in thought, and immediately felt ashamed and embarrassed. She and Ichigo weren't like that! But... But it was all right to miss a friend, right? _That idiot probably doesn't miss me back, anyway._

She spent the next few hours remembering, imagining, and talking with Ichigo in her mind.

Hitsugaya, too, was remembering.

_Hinamori Momo,_ he thought, the name a balm for his pains. She was the laughing girl; the girl he grew up with, and fought with, and laughed with.

_We watched sunsets together, and ate watermelon._

Then he remembered his shock in seeing her immobile on the floor, her blood splattered everywhere. Aizen had destroyed her then. Aizen had killed her once. She had never been the same, even after so many years. Those memories would haunt them both for a hundred years; maybe more.

And then, brave girl, she had killed Aizen herself in the Winter War. He, Hitsugaya, had been at the precipice of death with Aizen's blasted sword at his throat, when Momo had come up behind, silent with her tears, and stabbed Aizen right through his head. Oh, the look on his face when he saw his killer, right before death...

He remembered her words afterwards - _"I couldn't forgive him, Shiro-chan. As much as I wanted him to stay a good person, I knew I couldn't forgive him for how much he had hurt you. I don't know why, Shiro-chan, but part of me feels kind of proud. He tried to kill me once, so I got back at him, even if it really hurt."_

_Momo, you brave thing. You tried so hard._

Little did Rukia and Hitsugaya know that those very two, Ichigo and Momo, were at that instant journeying to rescue them.

-

_A/N: Awkwardness between Ichigo and Momo is hard to write (but amusing at the same time)! XD_


	7. The Two Race to Save Them

_A/N: It's been too long! Forgive me! x_x;_

-

**Chapter 7: The Two Race to Save Them**

Night fell.

Exhausted, Ichigo and Momo called it a day and set up camp for the night. They had traveled non-stop since noon, and could barely shunpo anymore. Tiredly Ichigo dragged out their tents and positioned them, while Momo lit a small fire with kido.

Dinner was a small but nourishing meal of rice, salted fish, and pickled eggplant. It brought back enough energy to them that they felt slightly talkative - at least, Momo did.

"Ah, that feels much better!" she sighed, placing her bowl down, scraped clean of food.

"Yeah..." murmured Ichigo, trying to feel enthusiasm as well.

"Ichigo-san," she asked lightheartedly, "tell me about Kuchiki-san. I don't know much about her."

Ichigo put down his bowl slowly. His chopsticks clattered against the bowl's rims. "What do you want to know?" he asked warily.

"Oh, well... Anything, really. Tell me how you met, or... I don't know. Some great thing she did."

"Uh..."

Ichigo stared at the dancing flames for a long while, wondering if he should really tell this girl he barely knew about his connection with Rukia.

_Whatever,_ he thought. _Good way to pass the time, and keep my mind off things._

He hesitated and began.

"Rukia... She's the reason why I'm sitting here now, and why my family is still alive."

Momo's eyes widened with curiosity and she leaned forward.

"A little more than 15 years ago... A while before the Winter War... My home was attacked by a hollow. The hollow was tearing up the neighbourhood - now that I think about it, it wasn't a very strong hollow. But back then... I was human. Only human... I could still see ghosts, though. I could see dead people, and hollows, and..."

His golden brown eyes twinkled from the firelight.

"...and shinigami...

"When she came through my bedroom wall that night, curious as to why I had some reiatsu, I could see her. It was the weirdest thing." He laughed with the memory. "You should've seen both our faces. Anyway, my reiatsu had basically lured a hollow towards my home, and so, she had to fight it.

"She was already a good fighter, but the hollow caught her by surprise and dealt her a blow. The hollow was approaching fast - she couldn't fight anymore, and if nothing was done, I and my family would be destroyed. So there was only one thing she could do: transfer some of her powers to me, so that I would be able to kill the hollow.

"Unfortunately, I took all of her powers, so she ended up having to stick with me and teach me about shinigami and everything. She's the one who changed my world and my life, and gave me the power to protect."

He smiled to himself, reminiscing, and then raised his head to look at Momo's captivated face. "So yeah. That's basically it."

"And now?" she asked eagerly. "What's your relationship with her now?"

"Eh?..."

Seeing him hesitate, Momo felt regret. _That's a private thing I shouldn't be asking._

Ichigo was caught by surprise, and paused, going through the different answers he had given before. _'Friend'. 'Good friend'. 'Close friend'. 'Precious nakama'.._.

"She's my best friend," he said, "and she stopped the rain."

"The rain?..."

"Yeah... It still falls sometimes, but it used to be really bad - until she came." He smiled fondly to himself. "That girl..."

"I see," Momo said quietly. She was awed; Ichigo and Rukia sounded very close, with a powerful bond between them. _Are they a couple?_ she wondered briefly, but decided not to ask, seeing how far she had already wandered into private matters.

She noticed with a start that Ichigo was holding onto something - _was it... was it a zanpakutou? He already has that huge sword strapped to his back; why does he have another one?_

Ichigo noticed her staring and laughed nervously. "Uh... this is Rukia's, not mine."

"Oh..."

"She... she dropped it. I have to give it back."

Momo nodded and smiled, noting how desolate he sounded and how he tried to mask it.

"Well, I'm going to bed," announced Ichigo.

"Oh, all right - I will set up a woven dome of kido protection around us to alert us if someone comes too close."

"Great, thanks. Are we getting up at dawn again tomorrow?"

"Yes, that would be best. We are almost there; the mountain was clearly visible, earlier."

Ichigo muttered a sound of agreement and dipped into his tent.

Momo sighed and quickly set up the wrought alarm system, thoughts full of the one she cared for. She had already accepted the fact that she was... well, "in love" didn't really capture her feelings. But it would do.

_Just a little longer, Shiro-chan... I'm coming..._

The warm orange light from the dome flickered on her grim little face, still young and naive.

-

The old man in tattered black stood alone in a blank, white place. He peered curiously from one way to another, searching for something - or someone.

The white blankness was to be expected, for this was not the Kuchiki girl's inner world. This was the small space inside the sword, where the wielder's inner world would usually meld with and expand.

A smudge of stark charcoal on the bleached paper of this empty space, Zangetsu shook his head and tutted. A flutter of white cloth - a slightly bluer tone to it than the surroundings - caught his dark eyes. He strode over and kneeled, catching the sensations of utter despair emanating from the limp woman sprawled at his feet.

With his one remaining arm, he gently lifted a moon-blue lock of hair to reveal the woman's beautiful face, pale and strained. Her eyes, the lightest slate sky, flickered anxiously towards the grizzled man's face, but she did not move otherwise.

He said nothing. Words were not needed to express his understanding and compassion for the ice lady. He sat there by her side, silent and protective.

-

Ichigo, on the other hand, was remembering his meeting with Byakuya yesterday, the night before he left on this journey.

"You will save her, I expect." That cold back turned to him with the kanji of "six" emblazoned, black on white.

"Of course - as if I could leave her."

And as calculating as Kuchiki Byakuya always was, emotionless and cold, Ichigo knew what he was really trying to say: _'Save her and bring her back. Protect her with your life.'_

_Yes. I swear it._

Ichigo gripped his sheets tightly and closed his eyes, his scowl etched deeper than usual.

_Just a little longer, Rukia. I'm coming._

-

Rukia woke with a start. _What was that?..._

She looked around, searching for the familiar white captain's cloak. She found no trace of the white-haired captain in the vast ice cavern.

There was a cry, and a hard thump accompanied with the crack of ice. Rukia whirled around to see Hitsugaya on his knees, flung there by the large rigid figure of Karasu. The raven-man seemed larger than usual, slightly distorted and his body disproportionate; the arms were too long and the back too curved. Blood-red eyes fizzled behind the mask with the sound of burning forests, and he seemed closer to beast than human. But no - she blinked, and he had returned to being perfectly normal.

Without a word, Karasu turned and disappeared.

Confused, she focused on the captain. He had struggled to his feet and was now murderously glaring into space. His sleeves had been ripped off and Rukia noticed long deep scratches down his arms. The blood had quickly frozen and stoppered up the wounds, leaving them livid red and without drips.

"Hitsugaya-taichou, what happened?" she asked hesitantly.

"Oh, nothing," he replied coldly. "I only tried to escape, and was punished. That is all."

Rukia was even more confused now. The light faded from her eyes. "Escape?" She shook her head tiredly. "Why would you wish to escape? Isn't this place fine and comfortable?"

Hitsugaya blinked. His head began to hurt, and there was a strong pressure at the back of it. He rubbed the spot and shrugged. "Ah... You're right. I would never want to leave this place." His eyes were now dull as well, and he droned "this is a good place" without a smile.

Suddenly, as if only realizing now, he glanced down at his arms.

"Oh... How did I get these?"

Rukia shrugged hopelessly at him. "I don't know, sir. I can't imagine what could have done it."

-

Ichigo and Momo were rudely awakened by loud cracks and groans, accompanied by various loud chimes. An hour before dawn, they sprang out of their tents to find two hollows lunging through the kido dome, ripping it into fragments and roaring with rage. One was snake-like, lithe with six legs, and the other was a lumbering monstrosity.

Ichigo swore under his breath. "Just had to be at a time like this..."

Momo drew her zanpakutou. "Ichigo-san, please try not use too much energy."

He nodded. "Yeah, let's finish them off quickly." The white bandages unwrapped themselves from his blade in preparation.

With a nod in reply, Momo was up in the air in front of the thin, worm-like hollow, ready to deliver a fatal slice through the white mask. The hollow was unexpectedly swift; it parried her blow with a strong claw and whisked around to her back, coming in to attack. Momo spun around, shunpoeing upwards to escape its blow, and appearing at its defenseless side, cut it clean through the middle. With a roar, the hollow flickered and shattered into a million particles as the soul was freed.

Simultaneously Ichigo clashed with the burly hollow, the mask's keen horns nearly piercing his chest. Growling with annoyance he swept through it twice with sturdy Zangetsu, effectively destroying the hollow.

Ichigo cocked his blade over his shoulder and glanced at Momo, pleasantly surprised. "Hey, you're pretty good."

"Of course," laughed Momo. "I am a lieutenant, after all."

"Yeah..." _Oh, that's right. Aizen was her captain..._

"Well, here we are, a while before dawn." She sighed. "I suppose it's no use trying to catch some more sleep."

"Right," muttered Ichigo, still distracted. "Let's go, then."

Strong stormy winds began to blow as they set off, ruffling the trees and washing waves across the hills. Unfortunately, the two had to travel against the wind, and progress was slow. As soon as they broke through the forest, they chose to travel on ground as opposed to the sky, for the winds blew stronger with elevation and thick clouds were billowing low enough to obscure their vision.

They attempted some talk at first, but soon gave up, seeing how the gusts would steal away their voices.

The coal-stained swathes deliberately grew and smoldered overhead, no longer able to be called clouds. They were more like heavy quilts, or oil stains, or perhaps dark oceans, ready to drown whoever was caught in their wrath.

A storm was approaching.

Stranded in a vast field and far from shelter behind and beyond, Ichigo and Momo were caught in a large predicament.

"What shall we do?!" shouted Momo, the wind nearly whipping her hair free from her bun.

"Dunno!" hollered Ichigo. "Just keep going... There, that big rock - we can hide at its side."

They struggled against the howling tempest, and gradually made it to the large boulder half buried in the blustering grass. Stringing their tents with great difficulty along one edge of the impassive stone, they formed a quick shelter, strengthened with more of Momo's ingenious kido.

"You can work it like magic," remarked Ichigo, in awe of her abilities. "Me, I can't do kido to save my life."

"Oh - thank you. But can't you do even a little bit, like Sai, or Shakkaho..."

"Pfft, no way. Never learned. Anyway, I never really had to use it. Rukia always took care of the kido."

"If you tried to learn, surely you could do it," objected Momo. "It's a very valuable skill, especially for one with a captain's strength."

Ichigo rubbed his head absentmindedly. "I'm just - I guess I'm not fit for it, like... it's really hard for me to control my reiatsu, so yeah..."

"Yes... Your reiatsu is quite unruly. Well, I'm sure Kuchiki-san wouldn't mind teaching you."

"Oh, yeah, she'd really enjoy it," grimaced Ichigo, imagining her gleeful little face, laughing cruelly at his helpless form, body rendered useless from Sai.

The tent-cloth fluttered wildly, buffeted by the storm, and it began to rain.

Ichigo was used to having Rukia close by whenever it rained for many years. Now, she was not there beside him. It dragged him down, just like the old days when they had not yet met, and just like all the times she faded away. There was no shining moon to drive away the rain, now. It was a strange, accustomed feeling, having the horrid weight and despair pull him down again, so familiar, and so difficult, like a whining, selfish child. Negativity roamed freely through his mind, and worry wrecked him to pieces, falling like the lonely raindrops slipping down the tent-cloth.

All at once, he realized he really needed Rukia to stay above the sea, surging and threatening to swallow him. Why was he so weak, inside?

_All right, that's it. I need to get my mind off of this._

"Hey," he began quietly, glancing at the small shinigami beside him, playfully weaving a labyrinthine lamp. "Tell me about Toushirou."

"Eh?" She peered at him curiously. "What about Shiro-chan?"

_Shiro-chan?..._ "Uhh, I dunno. Just tell me a story. I told you about Rukia."

"Oh." She thought for a minute, finishing her lamp and placing it in front of her, watching it dazzle with tropical blue-green and canary yellow.

"Well, then... We grew up together, Shiro-chan and I, in Rukongai, with his grandmother. He was always alone, because the other children were scared of him and his different appearance - Baa-san and I were the only ones not afraid of him."

"That's why he's so cautious and cold all the time," interrupted Ichigo.

She nodded. "He was such a funny thing, always trying to protect me, even though he is younger and smaller. Even now. He always hides his true feelings." Her eyes softened. "It makes me feel bad, knowing he always worked so hard to protect me, and I ignored his efforts and turned towards Aizen..."

She sighed bitterly. "I can't forgive myself. I know I should have paid more attention to him and quiet ways, I know I should have realized how much he was trying to protect me. I can't believe I nearly killed him, for_ Aizen._ I can't ever forgive myself, until it's clear he forgives me."

"But you were under a kind of spell - weren't you?" protested Ichigo.

"...Still."

"I think he forgives you."

She smiled softly and shook her head. "I don't know."

_This is funny,_ thought Ichigo. _It's like we're both going to rescue the ones dearest to us. Wait. What? Is Rukia... Woah. Okay._ Confused with himself, he slowed down. Rukia couldn't possibly be the one dearest to him! The thought was ridiculous - that noisy midget, always insulting him - but... it was true. He held her more dear than... than anyone. His family, even. Yes, he loved them, Yuzu, Karin, even his stupid, crazy dad (his _family,_ dammit), but Rukia was...

He paused. _All right, just stop it there. Stop being silly._

The storm began to wane. The last spatterings of rain smoothed out the creases of the drenched plains, and the wind no longer rushed about with murderous jubilation.

Momo peered outside. "It seems to be letting up," she commented, and turned around, eyes bright with determination and oblivious to his inner disturbances. "Shall we set off again, soon?"

"Uh, yeah."

There was only a last stretch of grass-blown field and a stand of pines before they reached the foot of the mountain. Thrill and anxiety pounded through them both.

_Just a little longer..._

-

_A/N: Next chapter will be quite exciting. Hohoho._


	8. And They Clash

_A/N: Quite a long, action-packed chapter here. Enjoy!_

-

**And They Clash**

Hitsugaya woke without knowing when he fell asleep. It was an unsettling sensation.

In addition, he had no idea what had happened to give him those strange scratches down his arms. What kind of creature could have such claws? He could remember nothing. They were simply _there._

He felt lost.

_What is happening to me?..._

He spent a long while trying to answer this question.

Near him, across the border, the Kuchiki girl was sleeping - more or less uncomfortably. She had groaned and rolled over about ten times already, and it was getting on his nerves. He decided to wake her from whatever nightmare she was in.

"Hey, Kuchiki. Wake up."

She exploded up into sitting position, gasping for breath. Eyes wide, she spun her head around furtively.

Hitsugaya blinked from this strong reaction. "Oi... You look bad."

Rukia shuddered and clutched her skull. "My head hurts," she whimpered, and curled up into a tight ball once again, half-burying herself in the snow. Her shihakusho was nearly white from all the powdery flakes clinging to it.

He stared at her pitiful figure, bewildered, and then winced as a sharp pang rang through his own head. His turquoise eyes widened, and he whirled around, catching sight of a small, white-robed child, staring at him from afar. It giggled and began to hop across towards him.

"Don't come any closer!" Hitsugaya snarled, standing with difficulty.

The child stopped. A cold, frosted breeze slithered through the cavern.

"Masks are done," piped Suzume, proceeding to hop up and down restlessly. In its hands it clutched a small bat, both wings torn off and quite dead.

"Masks?"

"Heehee," giggled the child, and without warning, dashed off into the distance.

Hitsugaya groaned and sank to the ground, tearing his fingers through his unruly white hair. What was going on?

He had a feeling something rather horrid would happen soon. That was all he could make from this.

"Hey... Kuchiki... You better wake up. Really."

She grumbled something softly, and sat up, looking better than before. She wrung her hands worriedly, and glanced at him for guidance. "Is something happening, sir?"

"Not yet," murmured the captain, "but I think, soon, something will."

His head hurt again, badly this time. It felt like ten hammers were knocking about on the inside of his skull. He groaned and tried to fight back the urge to pass out.

Rukia, too, tensed and let out small cries of pain.

...and suddenly, the pain stopped.

They looked at each other, dazed and baffled, and their eyes glazed over slowly.

"I would want to stay here forever," sighed Rukia.

"Me too," said Hitsugaya. "I never want to go back to... where, again? I forgot."

"Oh... I remember nearly nothing, already," chuckled Rukia. "Surely we were meant to live here, in this wonderful place."

"Yes." The turquoise eyes were empty - like pits in deep ocean crevices, only coloured sweet blue-green.

In front of them, the three Frost People stood, dangerously calm.

"You see, Karasu," sang the owl-woman softly, "you must do it gently and carefully - otherwise, all you do is hurt them."

"Shut up!" snapped the distorted man. "You think you're so good at this."

"Why," she cooed, "but I am quite successful, yes?" She gestured at the two blank-faced shinigami. "See how much they are under control. Hurting them does no good. The minds must be penetrated very gently - like feather-fingers, not knives."

Karasu said nothing. He only grew more distorted still, murderous red eyes reflecting his great fury and frustration at Fukurou's words.

Fukurou laughed mildly at this reaction, and continued. "Now... It is time for the masks, isn't it?"

"Heehee," giggled the sparrow-child, and it promptly ran off to fetch them.

-

Ichigo and Momo raced across the remainder of the fields quickly, taking less than a half-hour to arrive at the stand of pines. Then all that was left was to leap from limb to limb, bough to bough, and then there was a climb up the mountain, and the finding of an entrance. Momo was now very sure of where to go. The reiatsu of Rukia and Hitsugaya was strong enough for her to locate them; but to her horror, it was weakening.

"Ichigo-san!" she cried. "We must hurry! Something is happening to them!"

He swore and only traveled faster.

-

Rukia tried to fight the strange snow-white hand clutching her consciousness, but she was not strong enough. At least her head did not hurt as much as before; the hand was firm and frightening, but not painful.

She sank into a black space, tumbling without holds and completely lost. She tried to think of things to keep her fighting; something to keep her from losing herself forever to the cursed white hand.

She thought of the orange-haired young man. She had already forgotten his name, but his image was still there, and his strong, scowling face. He was all that was left. She clung to him desperately, wondering how long she would be able to hold on.

_I need a miracle,_ she thought bitterly, and thought of him, and him only. If she thought of anything else, she knew she would lose.

-

Hitsugaya was slightly better off, having such a hard, iron-wrought mindset, well-prepared after years of building up armor. The white hand poked around, trying to find loopholes, the scuttling white fingers - a little too long and a little too thin - crawling up and down his mind's walls. Because of this, it hurt slightly. He could not keep this up for long.

A finger, tipped with a long, sharp nail, found a small gap. It peered inside and ravaged at the hole, tearing it open further. Hitsugaya gasped inwardly - the hand had found his childhood. He screamed silently, and in that moment of weakening, the hand lunged through and claimed more of his mind.

He gritted his teeth, and continued fighting, clinging on to Momo - dear Momo...

-

Ichigo and Momo stood in front of the small dark hole, a stark blemish on the face of the white-boned mountain. A cold, unsettling wind whistled through it, stroking their faces. It was as if the mountain was breathing.

_Woah, creepy,_ thought Ichigo. "This is..."

"Yes..." Momo shivered. "This is definitely the right entrance."

"Are they still fine? I can feel Rukia..."

"Yes, they're fine, but only just." She gripped Tobiume tighter. "We must hurry, and be ready to fight. We do not know how many we are against. Please be careful, Ichigo-san."

"Got it," he replied.

They dove into the eerie gap, zanpakutou out and ready, icy breezes flowing past them.

-

Rukia and Hitsugaya stood in the middle of yet another vast cavern, lead there by the Frost People. Before them stood Fukurou, and behind her, Karasu and Suzume side by side.

Deadly calm, the woman held two masks. One, a white crane's head; the other, an eagle's. The hollow eyes were pitch black, and the beaks keen and sharp. Finely crafted things.

Rukia and Hitsugaya had now been allowed some control back over themselves. The white hand was still ready to catch hold of them and strangle them, however, if they tried to do anything. They wisely chose to stand quietly without argument.

They both dreaded the masks. _The masks._

Undoubtedly, these masks were meant for them.

"Now you will be able to join us properly," Fukurou had sung, leading them here like lost puppies. "Won't that be nice, children? Then, together, we can bring the age of ice back to the world."

And now, the woman laughed quietly, excitement trembling through her. "Come here," she cooed to Rukia. "This mask is for you. Don't worry, it won't hurt." She gestured wildly to Karasu. "Dear, come and hold the boy for me."

Rukia, pulled by invisible strings, stepped closer towards the imposing woman. She shivered and made no fuss. She had already accepted her end.

She would die quietly and honorably.

"That's right. Come here, girl." The white crane mask was lifted and tilted gently, poised to rest upon Rukia's face. Hitsugaya tensed and watched, helpless - Karasu was now behind him, deathly claws resting over his throat.

_"Bankai! Gestuga Tensho!"_

Fukurou glanced up, and disappeared. Where she had been a moment before, a red-rimmed black crescent sliced a rift into the snow, missing Rukia by a centimeter.

She turned and stared. Ichigo was fighting with Fukurou, her white sickle suddenly in her hands. The orange-haired, young man, always scowling, always fighting, always staying with her, Rukia.

Her mind exploded in a massive epiphany, a rush of memories and names overflowing through her. In that powerful swirl, she saw everything she had forgotten, and the white hand faded away, driven away by her suddenly-formidable mind.

And then she opened her mouth and screamed, _"Ichigo!!"_

He did not reply immediately - he was far too busy trying to escape the swinging blade of Fukurou - but he grinned and spun to place himself between the woman and Rukia. In one fleeting moment of lull, he turned around to look at her. "You okay, Rukia?!"

"Yes," she cried, "Ichigo-"

"Save it for later!" he shouted, and was back to battling.

Momo appeared stealthily behind Hitsugaya and Karasu, who was attempting to force the eagle mask on, but she was not stealthy enough for the beastly man. Snapping around with unimaginable speed, he dropped the mask and flicked at her with ten razor claws. She only managed to block the attack, springing up above the raven-man and declaring her sword's name. "Hajike, Tobiume!"

Twin fireballs raced to blast into Karasu. He easily dodged them, and reappeared a distance away. This left Hitsugaya unguarded, however, and he shunpoed to her side.

"Hinamori..."

"Hi," she said weakly, and tried to smile at him, noticing how battered up he looked.

"You dummy," he cried, "you'll get yourself killed. You shouldn't have-"

"Shush, Shiro-chan. Go find your zanpakutou!"

With that, she leapt into battle once again, the needle-claws clashing against her blade. Hitsugaya stared for a moment, stunned; but then he was gone, skimming through the tunnels and searching for his inner companion's voice.

_Hyourinmaru! I need you! Answer me, and I will be able find you!_

Somewhere, faintly, his sword answered. He dashed towards the source.

_...I need you for Momo..._

-

Ichigo did not dodge fast enough and gained a cut to his shoulder from the beautiful white sickle. Ice bloomed in spikes from the wound. He was tiring quickly. _Damn this lady, she's so fast._ He could barely keep up with her, even in his bankai.

Rukia was safe, he knew that. And he could see Momo fighting the other enemy, the weird guy with the raven mask. He could not see Toushirou anywhere, but he was probably taking care of something, wherever he was.

Pain struck him in the side. He glanced down and saw blood soaking his midriff, crusted with ice - he had just been struck again. Snarling, he let fly another black crescent, but she avoided it with ease.

There was something weighting him down. All of a sudden, he remembered Sode no Shirayuki. Spinning away from Fukurou in a loud crash, he brought himself closer to Rukia, and in a deft movement, brought out the zanpakutou and flung it down to her with a warning cry.

She caught it beautifully. Gazing up at him with her fabulous eyes, lit up with gratitude, she tucked the scabbard into her belt and drew Shirayuki in a whisper of steel.

She stopped, face worried. Cradling her zanpakutou, she shouted up to Ichigo, "I can't fight yet! She needs to recover!"

"Okay!" he yelled back, and narrowly escaped being decapitated. In a furious series of swings, he tried to use a continuous barrage of attacks to overwhelm her. He succeeded in only one miniscule scratch down her stomach area. No blood appeared, only a funny frosty liquid.

_Boy, this lady's really messed up._

This thought cost him another cut, his ear nicked by the sickle whistling by his head. He winced with the pain as ice crackled across to his jaw.

"Out of the way, Kurosaki!"

He dove away just in time to see a huge ice dragon rush past, ruby eyes shining daggers at the owl-masked woman. She paused, stunned, and she paid dearly; in one smooth movement, the dragon tossed her head-first into a cavern wall. The sound of the ice cracking reverberated across the colossal space.

But she was far from dead. Slowly she rose, showing no sign of giving up.

Hitsugaya appeared beside Ichigo. "Kurosaki, I'll take care of this, since you seem to be having difficulty. You go help Hinamori."

"But-"

The twin turquoise eyes gazed at him levelly. "I repeat - _I will take care of this._"

"Fine." Secretly, he was grateful. "Good luck."

"Yes... and thank you," muttered the captain, leaving Ichigo no time to reply as he sprang towards his opponent.

Taken aback slightly, Ichigo scowled and flung himself towards Momo, who was on her defensive now, frantically parring and dodging.

He stared at the monstrosity Karasu had transformed into; he now had two pairs of arms, marvelously long and each tipped with cruel knives - very much more than five. Wings had sprouted from his back, massive, black-charred, deformed things, from nightmares, perhaps. The white raven mask had melded with where the face had been, the beak extended and ending with a callous hook. Three blood-red eyes fumed from within. It was no longer human, only a beastly thing that no longer could be referred to 'he'.

It shrieked with a voice of a hundred ravens, battering poor Momo down to the ground. With a cry Ichigo struck with Zangetsu, and the black moon-fang embedded itself into the monster's side. It paused and scratched at the wound, ice frosting over it.

In the monster's moment of distraction, Momo found a chance to ready herself to attack.

She raised her sword and dove in close, as close as she dared, and right in the monster's face, released three flaming orbs. All three met their mark.

The monster shuddered from the heat and croaked horridly, clawing at its melting face. Drips of liquid shimmered all over its body, pooling at its feet. Momo came in for another barrage, the fireballs tumbling onto the creature's body.

Then it opened its mouth and screamed, strands of sticky ice-like substances dangling from its beak. Ichigo and Momo squeezed their hands over their ears, unable to bear the macabre wail of a thousand ravens, or more.

"Shut up!" yelled Ichigo, and let fly another crescent, pouring reiatsu into it. The black arc snapped into the monster's right side, pinning a leg to the ground and rendering two arms useless. The creature struggled, remaining arms and leg stretching and distorting desperately.

"Now!" cried Ichigo, and Momo nodded firmly.

She stepped quietly up to the monster once called Karasu, and closed her eyes for a moment. Then she raised Tobiume, glittering with death's shine, and dealt the enemy a swift, painless death of decapitation.

The head, now unrecognizable, dropped to the icy floor and lolled to a stop. The body fell still. In a burble of melting ice, both the head and the body returned to the earth - where they belonged. Ice should never have taken a shape like that.

Karasu was dead.

Or perhaps he had never been alive.

In a rush of breath, Momo let out a sigh of relief. Ichigo, too, relaxed, now wincing from the noticeable pain of his wounds.

"Thank you, Ichigo-san," huffed the weary shinigami. "If it wasn't for you, I never would have had a chance to attack."

"No probs," he croaked in reply.

-

Rukia crouched in a shadows at the edge of the cavern, desperately calling and comforting her zanpakutou. She glanced up momentarily at the defeat of Karasu and some of the tension faded from her body, relieved to see both Ichigo and Momo still fine. Hitsugaya still fought the owl-woman; distant crashes made that clear.

Turning her attention back to her inner world, she continued to calm her miserable companion. _Sode no Shirayuki, please, you must be strong... I am here now. We will never be separated like that again, I promise you, just please - please be strong for me now, I need to- there's no time- Shirayuki-_

**Kuchiki Rukia...** came the sad, beautiful voice of her zanpakutou. **I am... wretched... I...**

_I know._

**Rukia...**

_Please... Please come back to me..._

**I... Let... Let that never happen again. Promise me... I cannot bear...**

Rukia gritted her teeth. _I promise, I promise a thousand times, oh, Shirayuki, if you won't come back and be strong for me I might - we might - all die!_

Silence. Contemplative silence... And then:

**Rukia.**

Strength returned to both of them. They were together once more, never to be separated again, heaven forbid.

_Thank you, Sode no Shirayuki._

A short laugh; Rukia could clearly see the pale lady, smiling coyly. **Anytime, my dear. Shall we go?**

_Yes._ Rukia smiled back. _Let us go._

**Good - I have something new to teach you.**

-

A huge, shuddering explosion brought Ichigo and Momo's attention towards Hitsugaya, still battling with Fukurou on equal terms, neither gaining an upper hand.

Then Hitsugaya began to falter, his body already weakened from his capture.

"We've got to go help him!" cried Ichigo, beginning to run towards the captain and the owl-woman. Momo stepped forward and stopped him.

"What-"

"Ichigo-san," she said quietly, "this is Shiro-chan's fight. You mustn't interfere." She gazed peacefully at the small figure of her childhood friend, his face a calm mask, hiding his fury. "He needs to win by himself. This is his fight."

Silent, Ichigo stood, and was lost for words. He stood and watched. _His fight..._

-

The white sickle swung and dealt a blow to his arm, cutting deep. Hitsugaya snarled and shunpoed away, tensing himself to strike.

_"Hyourinmaru!!"_

The ice dragon took flight and curled at furious speed, seemingly encasing Fukurou - but no, she was over there, already winging her sickle to strike through his head. He turned around just in time to block it and let fly a whorl of dragon into her face. She shrieked and leapt away - and disappeared.

Hitsugaya froze.

_Where is she?_

A cold hand wrapped around his neck, icy, cruel, like death's hold itself. Ice began to creep across his skin, and he shivered, eyes wide. Another hand came to join it, scorpion-leg fingers dancing across his collarbone.

"Child," she cooed softly, "naughty child... Playtime is over."

Her hold tightened. Still expressionless, the white mask with the stark black holes stared. The silent tension stretched. The ice spread and spread, starting to pierce into his skin, and the white hand began to squirm through his mind once more.

A small smile, slightly sad, appeared on his young face. His mouth opened.

Quietly, like a word of peaceful acceptance, he uttered:

"Bankai."

The ice wings unfolded, smashing into Fukurou. She gave an unseemly squeal and clutched her hands. She watched the captain warily, trying to keep her wit.

"Hah, what is that?" she sneered. "Two ice wings and tail? What good will it do you to turn half-dragon, little boy?"

He said nothing. He only gazed at her, a little pitiful.

"Let me tell you, boy," continued Fukurou, "ice cannot win against ice, and your ice is nothing. I am _real _ice. I came from the long harsh winters and I was born from the tips of white mountains. I am ice itself. You have no hope, boy." The sickle appeared again in her hands, shining bright and a slight bit more deadly compared to before.

Hitsugaya sighed. "Ice itself, you say..." he murmured. "Is ice so heartless? Is ice so distorted? Is ice so tainted?" He shook his head hopelessly. "I don't know why you came to be, but it was a mistake. If you are ice itself, you never should have come to life like this. Ice is part of nature. Ice is beauty. Ice is death, but ice does not _want_ death, ice is not cruel like this - ice is sane. Just like everything else in nature."

His glorious, twin turquoise eyes rose to meet her black pits. "Therefore..."

He did not finish. He simply raised his blade, dear faithful Hyourinmaru, such a loyal companion.

"Ryusenka."

The ice flower erupted into bloom, encasing the owl-woman Fukurou. The whole intricate structure began to fall, gaining more and more speed until it hit the hard icy ground and smashed to a thousand fragments.

So ended Fukurou - or perhaps she had never been alive.

Hitsugaya sank to the ground, his bankai disappearing and his wounds beginning to flow with blood again. The sickle had dealt its mark, and exhaustion enveloped him. He faintly remembered Momo running towards him before he lapsed into darkness.

-

"Rukia! Are you okay? What are you-"

"Ichigo..." She glanced up at him, gratitude and relief shining in her eyes. "You... saved me again..."

"Geez, not that again," he sighed. "Listen, Toushirou's fainted or something, but he won against the creepy lady. So we can go home safely now, there's no one left to-"

He stopped, his brown eyes widening. Rukia blinked, puzzled.

"Ichigo? What's..."

Without further ado, Ichigo grabbed her around the waist and pulled her away in a swift shunpo. He pushed her behind him, and glared at the new obstacle standing before them.

Suzume.

"Damn, I forgot about this little guy," he muttered.

"It's just a child, isn't it?" whispered Rukia from behind him. "We should leave it be... Or... It can't be something dangerous, can it?"

"I dunno... it doesn't look dangerous."

As soon as he uttered those words, Suzume began to grow.

It was not a growth like a child would grow into an adult. It was a growth in size, in dimensions, in crookedness. It grew and grew, all the time stretching and slithering, many long strands or snake-tails beginning to writhe across the floor. White like a disease, the mask split into two, and two again. The four heads, in unison, giggled a dissonant chord. The sound sent shivers down Ichigo and Rukia's spines. It leered closer, looming like a distorted shadow, and Ichigo struggled to prepare himself. Exhausted, he wondered how he would be able to battle this next creature.

And seeing this, and understanding this, Rukia simply knew that this was her time.

"Ichigo," she said, commanding and strong. "Move out of the way."

"Huh?" He stared at her, surprised at her sudden recovery. "What-"

"Ichigo, you will be killed if you do not move away."

She gazed sternly at him, and he backed away, worry creasing his face. "Okay... Be careful, Rukia."

She smirked, giving the slightest nod, and faced Suzume. The deformed leviathan slowly lurched towards her, tentacles whispering out to catch her and strangle her.

"Mae, Sode no Shirayuki." The white ribbon spun and curled gently through the air, the sword's blade glowing from its pure beauty.

The next part was difficult. She hesitated, wondering if this was really what she ought to do, and asked her zanpakutou. She said _yes._

So Rukia took a deep breath and declared more than she had ever declared before.

"Bankai..."

Through the mist, her clothes turned pure white. She raised the blade in a slow, wide arc, from her right side to her left, the ribbon floating after it.

"...Shi no Mai... Mangetsu."

And above them, the full moon rose.

-

_A/N: Ah, Rukia's bankai. Mangetsu = Full Moon, and Shi no Mai can be interpreted two ways; one meaning is simply "fourth dance", the other is "dance of death". Rather fitting, I think you will see, in the next chapter._


	9. Under the Moon

_A/N: A chapter filled with ichirukiness~ n_n Plus some hitsuhina, of course! Enjoy~_

-

**Chapter 9: Under the Moon**

A perfect disc, plume-blue and misty white, glowed in the darkened surroundings. Craters, only adding to its powdered, snowfelled beauty, laced across the radiant surface.

Deliberately, wryly, it rose above Rukia and the thing once Suzume.

The moon is fickle. It chooses to show itself fully only once a month, chooses to let the people bathe in its pure unshadowed beauty only once a month. It is shy and often hides behind the clouds - but when called, it is eager to boast a proud display, seeking to always surpass the stars. The full moon.

Now it shone, bright and cool, marvelous and massive. It was large enough to cover both Rukia and Suzume, and to stretch beyond.

Suzume looked up slowly, craning its long rubber-like neck up and up and up, trying to see the whole moon. It paused, as if it was trying to decide the meaning of the huge glowing orb floating above it, as if it was trying to comprehend the situation with its simple child's brain.

Its bleached bone mask was bathed in the moon's pale light, highlighting the gauntness of the bird-face. It was only a skull, now; nothing more.

As the moon finished its rising, Rukia's sword reached the end of its sweeping arc. The tip touched the ground, and with an intake of breath, she brought the blade back across her in a swift slicing motion, sealing the pact.

The moon began to send its rays down to earth.

Suzume - or what had once been Suzume - gave an awkwardly frightened noise, and slithered to and fro through the dancing rays. Pearly blue and beautiful, the rays formed a maze, a large maze of ever-changing walls and rules. Lost within and confused by the dazzling wispy lights, the monster unknowingly ran around in circles.

Grimly, Rukia watched. Her white kimono was still, and so was her sword, but her mind and will worked furiously to keep the moon shining. Already she was exhausted. Weariness tugged her down, her willpower nearly severed, but she still forced herself to keep standing.

She needed to finish this, even if it killed her.

Scrambling together the last bits of her strength, she danced into the fray of lights and monster. It gave an ugly squeal as she sliced a squirming white worm-leg off of it. It tried to snag her, but the moon-rays flickered again and shifted, rending it bewildered. Its hesitation lost it another slippery tendril. Gracefully she pranced, shearing a tentacle here and there, perhaps giving it a nick or a gash.

Ichigo watched the deadly dance of the two, enthralled. He watched with a mixture of worry and awe, quietly cheering her on, hoping from the depths of his heart that the small shinigami would not fall. Momo and even Hitsugaya, now conscious due to her healing, watched as well.

Only once did the leviathan catch her, and when it did, the ugly cruel ice splintered through her leg and made her cry out in pain. But she stood up again, still able to fight, and slipped away into the darkness to set the last attack in motion.

The monstrosity slowed. It spun around slowly, casting its empty gaze like a beacon and searching for the girl. The rays intensified. The monster shuddered from the glare as all the rays turned, focused -

- and froze.

Cleanly, the rays had frozen into spears and knives, piercing the beastly thing from a hundred directions. It gave a momentary "grack" of surprise - then ice-blood spurted out as all the icy blades shattered and exploded through the deformed body. The fragments of white worms fizzled as they melted and returned back to where they belonged.

So ended Suzume, without even the time to scream.

Its task finished, the moon faded.

Rukia, clothes restored to black shinigami robes, gave a painful gasp. Blood trickled down her leg. Shirayuki fell from her grasp as she toppled to the ground, the clatter loud enough to shudder Ichigo from his trance.

_"Rukia!"_

He was there quickly, collecting her limp body into his arms and staring, eyes wide, into her bruised face. Her eyes were nearly closed, deadened, no longer a glorious violet-blue. Her skin was so pale, so white so cold oh god no she couldn't be-

"Rukia! Rukia, dammit - Rukia!" He held her, searched her face for a response, tugged on her shoulders and bit back a scream. Panic threatened to overwhelm him as he embraced her tightly, trying to bring the warmth back, and called her still, voice muffled in her frosty hair. Deliriously he kept calling her, senses clouded from confusion and grief, his sight blackening from fatigue...

There were voices. Many voices... And then some strong arms tugging at him, and hands supporting him, and Rukia being pulled out of his arms. _No! Not Rukia!_ He reached out and struggled to haul her back, shouting hoarsely something along the lines of "don't take her away". His vision fuzzed. His head swam.

He cried her name one last time before his body gave out and everything went black.

-

"Shiro-chan?" They were journeying back to Seireitei alone - Ukitake, Renji, and Byakuya had traveled ahead with unconscious Ichigo and Rukia. All speed had been required to save them.

"Don't call me that," growled Hitsugaya, supporting the weakened shinigami girl. "And what?" He had managed to heal her a small bit, but healing was not his specialty, and so she was still weak on her feet. At least she had healed him nearly to perfection - he could probably carry her above his head, but she would refuse, he knew.

"I hope they will be fine," she replied, stepping delicately across a gap, arm slung around the white-haired captain's shoulders. She nearly slipped, and Hitsugaya tightened his grip.

"Thanks," she breathed.

"Mm," he mumbled. "Do you mean Kurosaki and Kuchiki?"

"Yes, especially Kuchiki-san. She looked quite bad. I very much hope they make it in time to save her." Her brown eyes softened. "For Ichigo-san, mainly. He looked so desperate..."

Hitsugaya said nothing, but in his head, he agreed wholeheartedly. He broke the following silence by saying awkwardly, "Thanks for coming to save me."

She smiled. "Oh, haha, that."

He leaned over and gave her a quick squeeze. "You did well," he said gruffly.

"That makes you sound so old and formal," remarked Momo dryly.

Hitsugaya punched her lightly on the arm, and she giggled.

-

Slowly, like the last remnants of a dream, the smoky blackness faded into blinding sunlight. Ichigo groaned from the brightness and tried to close his eyes again. He heard faint voices, one regrettably familiar...

_Renji?_

The smack that collided with his jaw sent him nearly flying out of the fourth division bed, pain stabbing through his teeth. His vision blurred again. He heard several reproachful voices chiding the owner of the punch, some nervous laughter, a quick pair of feet scurrying out the room - probably fleeing from Unohana-san, he thought, amused.

_Darn Renji..._ He struggled to collect himself, and sat up, blinking stupidly.

"Oh, Kurosaki-san." The familiar voice of the fourth division's captain reached him, and she appeared at his bedside. "How are you feeling?"

"Umm... decent," he replied slowly, feeling his swollen jaw.

She tutted. "That childish sixth division lieutenant... Here, let me fix that."

A few moments later, the pain subsided and the swelling disappeared. "Wow, thanks, ma'am."

"You're welcome," she said formally. "Now. You must still stay in bed for a few more days. Your wounds are all healed, but your reiatsu is still weak, and you are not fit for regular activities yet. Do you understand?"

"Yes," he said nervously. "Oh, Unohana-san... How long have I been out?"

"Only two days," she told him breezily. "A rather quick recovery. It was a good thing the sixth division captain and Ukitake went to find you and the rest of your group when they did."

"Byakuya?! And Ukitake-san?" _They came to help?... So that was them..._

"Yes, and Abarai Renji as well."

_...Pfft. Bet he was the one to tried to pull Rukia from-_

_RUKIA._

"Rukia!" he gasped, leaping upright. "Where's Rukia? Is she - She isn't -"

"Kurosaki-san! Please do not stand up -"

"Where is she?!" he demanded, ignoring her pleas. He stomped over and glared into the captain's startled face, eyes determined. "I need to see her! Unohana-san, _I NEED -_"

His mouth zippered itself up. He grunted and tried to pry them open, to no avail.

Unohana was looking at him with a face grim as stone, her usual dangerous smile completely gone. "Kurosaki-san, if you will not be _civil_ and _quiet_, I will have to _force_ you back into bed. This is fourth division. I will not allow you to go on a shouting rampage where others are resting and sleeping. _Do you understand?_"

He nodded dumbly, frightened out of his wits.

"Good. Kuchiki-san is alive. She is still unconscious. We are unable to determine whether she will be able to wake from her coma. Her mind is very distant."

His mouth opened, now free from being bound up. He said hesitantly, "You mean... She might not wake up?..."

"There is a possibility."

"She..."

_She might not wake up. Ever._

"No way," he croaked. A part of him died inside, wilted and shriveled up like a pathetic excuse for a flower.

"Unohana-san. What room is she in?"

"Kurosaki-san, she should not receive any visitors, especially in her current -"

"I'm asking you, _what room is she in?_"

The fire never died from his autumn-brown eyes. They only stared and stared, shining knives and bullets, boring holes into the captain's slate blue ones.

She sighed quietly.

"Very well. Come with me, Kurosaki-san."

-

A few corridors later, they arrived at Rukia's room.

Ichigo entered at a trot, still managing to stay on his feet even with his low weakened reiatsu. He approached the white bed, the small figure laying upon it, covers drawn up to her chest, the machines piping all around, the white walls, the white floor, the windows with the sunlight straying in. He looked down and said nothing.

Unohana quietly left the room and its two inhabitants in peace.

-

"Have you heard about the Kurosaki lad?"

"'Course. He's the guy who never leaves that hospital room, right?"

"Yup. Been three days and he hasn't left the room once since going in."

"One stubborn fellow, eh?"

"Sure, yeah. That girl better wake up someday. Shouldn't keep a guy like that waiting so long."

"Eh, dunno about that, but gee, he's got some real determination in him."

"Mm-hmm, he does..."

-

_Three days,_ thought Ichigo flatly, and did not move from his sitting position by the bed. He was on the floor, legs up and one arm around them. A cushion had long been provided to soften the hard wood floor, since he had refused the regular chairs used by other visitors.

His other arm and hand was wrapped around Rukia's.

His reason for refusing the chair, though he never uttered it to anyone, was that this way, on the floor, he could better hold her hand.

He dipped his head to lay it down on the bed, and watched his fingers intertwine with hers. So white and pale, he thought, wishing they'd become a little pink, like normal flesh should be. He had already tried to warm her hand by rubbing it, but there had been no visible effect. He only clung to it tighter, as if doing so could somehow pull her back to him, or keep her from straying into darkness forever.

He couldn't look at her face. He couldn't bear to see the pained expression fixed on her poor unconscious face, framed by the black locks.

All of a sudden, abrupt tears leapt into his eyes. He was useless, he was just the useless loyal hound sticking to its fallen comrade's side. What was loyalty at a time like this? Loyalty could do nothing, no matter how strong, to save someone's life...

He needed to do something, and yet could not. He could only trust Unohana and the other members of fourth division to try their best to help Rukia. Even they could do little.

He felt himself shrink under the weight of hopelessness. He felt himself tremble like a weakling, wipe the tears away like a child.

Rukia was the one thing he could not lose.

"Rukia..." he mumbled shakily. "Rukia, can you hear me?... P-please Rukia, you've got to c-come back... Rukia..."

There was a knock. Ichigo turned around to see Renji standing in the doorway.

"Hey," said the red-haired shinigami mildly. "You don't look too happy."

"Go 'way," grumbled Ichigo, turning his back to him.

"Oi, that ain't nice!" cried Renji. "C'mon, I thought you might want some company, seeing you never leave this room. So how's lil Rukia doing? Man, you sure are the faithful puppy, just like all the others are saying. You that worried 'bout her? She'll be fine, you should slack it off a bit, y'know, and come out of the darn room -"

Suddenly Ichigo was in front of him, clutching his collar with vehemence. "Shut up," he snarled, "just shut up! If you don't understand what Rukia's going through, what _I'm_ going through, then you get out of this room now! Don't come in here and start blabbing away your rude nonsense where there's someone trying to stay alive!"

His grip loosened. The angry flames sank from his face. "You got that?" he said weakly.

Renji, startled, could only manage an equally weak "yeah."

And then, after a moment, "Can I look at her?"

"Yeah..."

Stiff, as if holding his breath, Renji approached the bed just as Ichigo had done. He looked, a little sadly, down at unconscious Rukia's face, and pondered a short while.

Then he turned, gave a small reassuring pat on Ichigo's back, and headed out the door.

Ichigo returned to Rukia's bedside and settled down once more, pressing the small cold hand to his cheek.

"Your bankai was beautiful, you know... It was the most beautiful bankai I've ever seen... Makes mine look like a smudge of dirt, Rukia..."

He continued talking to her softly - more softly than he had ever spoken to her, now that he thought about it - and this time he dared himself to gaze into her face, willing it to waken, calling for the wondrous eyes to open. He inspected her face carefully as he talked. He decided timidly that her face was beautiful, even in its unconscious, pained form.

"I wish you hadn't pushed yourself that far," he told her bitterly. "You needn't have fought instead of me... Part of me is glad to have seen your bankai, but really, I could've... I don't know... Dammit, I don't know anymore, Rukia. I just want you to wake up. I just want you to c-come ba.... back..." Damn, there, he was tearing up again. _Pathetic fool,_ she would say. _Stand up and be strong!_

But now... without her... he simply couldn't.

"Ru... Ruki... a..." He choked it out, over and over.

-

Rukia found herself strangely lost again.

She was standing in a world of nothing. A world of blackness, so black, blacker than the darkest midnight or the worst nightmare. It was blacker than even the time she had been caught by the Frost People. She could not see anything. Not even her own hands, when she held them up.

_Am I dead?_ she wondered briefly, and this surprised her. So she was able to think, at least.

_Perhaps I am about to die._

There was a coldness, too. A cruel, lithe coldness, the kind that seeps into your bones, so similar to the owl lady... or the raven man... or the finch child's coldness.

It was horribly lonely. She couldn't remember anything, really, and it was difficult to think in the pure blackness. She searched for a light... but found none. Not even the occasional sparks, or flashes, or floating images you see when your eyes are closed.

And then... something quite spectacular occurred.

She heard a voice.

First it was a woman's voice, so faint she could barely hear. **Rukia-sama... Someone is...**

_Who?_ she asked eagerly.

There was no reply. But now she heard another voice. A man's, or a boy's...

...calling...

She knew at once who it was.

_Ichigo._

_Ichigo!_

She looked around again, furtively, desperately, and found the Light.

It was only a star's miniscule speck in the sky, but it was bright, and it was there. It was easy to see, for it sparked brightly in the over-darkened surroundings.

She began to fight her way towards the Light, struggling through the darkness slowly. It was like running through jello. Invisible honey stuck to her and tried to pull her back, but she would scramble free and slowly continue to run. The Light became larger and larger, from a marble, to a grapefruit, to a soccer ball...

So passed a great amount of time, four more days, to be exact, though to her it felt like only minutes. The voice would sometimes stop, and the Light, too, would blink out at times, forcing Rukia to pause her journey. But the days went on, and she was almost there. Still the voice called. As the Light became brighter and larger, Ichigo's voice became louder and clearer. His pure pain and need shattered through to Rukia, startling her greatly. It made her try even harder to get there faster, and see what was wrong with him.

At last, the Light expanded and surrounded her completely in a burst of blinding white. She felt herself pulled and tugged in all directions as gravity and sheer consciousness took hold of her once again...

-

The moon was out.

The stars were out, too. Ichigo regarded them both, and chose the moon to be more beautiful.

He sighed and returned to laying his head back on the bed's edge. He half-closed his eyelids, trying to think of happier times and perhaps catch some sleep...

Rukia's eyes opened.

Ichigo started, peered upwards, and stared. His own brown eyes widened. Disbelieving, he gaped at Rukia's face, trying to convince himself this was real and not a cruel dream. He clutched her hand tighter, in an attempt to keep her conscious.

Rukia blinked slowly. She tried to gain back control of her senses, dulled after being out for so long. She watched Ichigo's face, floating some distance in front of hers, astonished and beleaguered.

"Rukia...?" he whispered.

Finally, she figured out how to open her mouth and work her tongue and throat again.

"Ichigo," she rasped, wonderingly.

He stared at her, silently urging her to say more, to prove her well-being, to tell him she was all right. But she only watched his face for a few moments more, gave the faintest of smiles, and promptly fell asleep.

Ichigo gasped for breath (he only now realized he had been holding it), and dashed out the door for Unohana.

Under the moon, Rukia slept peacefully.

-

_A/N: :D_


	10. And Over the Sun

_A/N: The final chapter. : ) Enjoy!_

**Chapter 10: And Over the Sun**

-

Momo and Hitsugaya watched the sunset together, eating away at watermelon slices and gazing at the brilliant oranges and reds, just like they'd done as children. A pleasant silence stretched between them. The fires of the sky burned splendidly as the sun gradually sank toward its resting spot for the night.

This was how it should have been for many years. Hitsugaya had missed watching the sunset with Momo dearly - ever since Momo's enrollment in the Academy, and then his, this kind of peaceful occasion away from work had rarely occurred...

The thought tightened his throat suddenly, and he pondered how he had been able to keep going without this for so long.

Momo was pattering away at him happily - he couldn't catch what she was saying, for it was all melting into the glory of the sunset - and he smiled and nodded, letting himself drown in her rich brown eyes. She was there. He was there.

That was all that mattered.

"Are you listening, Shiro-chan?!" complained Momo indignantly, jerking Hitsugaya from his daze. He blinked stupidly. "Uh..."

She only laughed. "Don't worry, it wasn't anything important. Look, the sun is nearly down." There was a pause where they watched it begin to sink below the horizon, spreading like dazzling golden honey along it.

"Here, I've brought some amanatto," came the soft voice of Grandmother behind them. "Eat up, my dears."

"Thank you, Grandmother," chorused the two, feeling as if they had gone back in time to when they were only children...

Soon, we will have to return to Seireitei and our life of duty, thought Hitsugaya somberly. All too soon, this joyful carefree time with Momo and Grandmother, his only family, would come to an end. He should be grateful that Yamamoto even let him have one day off...

They finished the sweet amanatto quickly, and the sun faded below the skyline in a glorious last burst of gold. In that glowing moment, right before the world faded into darkness, time seemed to slow. Hitsugaya looked towards Momo, and their eyes met, a faint smile of awe gracing her lips.

"It's pretty, isn't it, Shiro-chan?" she whispered, afraid to break the beauty.

"Don't call me that," he replied gruffly, and draped himself around her from behind. She gave a little squeak of surprise. "And yes, it's pretty," he continued, resting his chin on her shoulder.

"Oh," she said wonderingly, then leaned back and relaxed into his hold.

All too soon, the sunset would end, and it would be time to rest up for tomorrow. Tomorrow, back to their daily schedules of shinigami duties. But he must not think of this now...

He held her tighter. She responded by holding his hands.

In this moment, there was only _them_.

-

Unohana inspected the sleeping black-haired shinigami carefully while Ichigo stood anxiously by the door. He had been standing by the bed a few minutes ago, but being infuriatingly in the way, he had been asked to stand by the door, please and thank you.

_Geez. It's not like I was trying to be in the way,_ he thought, quite put out. _Rukia..._

He craned his neck, trying to see past Unohana's sturdy form, and only caught a glimpse of black hair.

More minutes passed. Ichigo slumped down to the floor and sat there, feeling abandoned. _When is that woman going to say something about Rukia?! Seriously, does it take this long to find out if she's okay or not -_

Engrossed in his silent complaints, he nearly jumped out of his skin when the captain suddenly appeared beside him. "Kurosaki-san, I have news."

His breath caught in his throat. "Is it... good news?"

"Yes." A rare, sincere smile. "She is well on the way to recovery, and does not appear to be in a coma anymore. She is simply sleeping now. Her reiatsu levels are very weak, but are on the right track to replenishing themselves. This is quite miraculous." She paused and gazed at him searchingly. "Did you do something, Kurosaki-san?..."

He blinked and shrugged. "No, not that I can think of. I just stayed by her..."

A moment of curious silence. Then:

"Very well. You may go in and see her again, if you wish, but do not wake her. She needs to rest, after her long journey..."

He nodded, slightly bemused by her words. "All right. Thanks, Unohana-san."

She swept away in a flutter of captain's cloak, and Ichigo wasted no time in trotting into the room once more. He slowed his steps and carefully approached the white bed, resting a hand on a bedpost. He regarded Rukia's face carefully. She looked healthier now, her skin not so pale, and the look on her face was peaceful. The sheets steadily rose and fell as she breathed. He touched her hand gently, and found that it was warm - no longer the cold pale flesh of the dead.

The anxiousness and tension that had plagued him for more than a week drained out from him with a massive sigh of relief. He sat abruptly against the wall beside the bed, his knees suddenly weak.

She was all right.

The enormity of this fact took his breath away.

"Psst, Ichigo-kun!"

He glanced up to see Ukitake waving surreptitiously from the doorway. "Ukitake-san?"

"Hello," he said in a half-whisper, "is she doing okay?"

"Yeah," Ichigo told him. "She's fine. Just sleeping now."

"That's good," replied the captain with a smile. "It's breakfast time right now - why don't you come along and eat outside this room today?"

"Yeah... That would be nice." He smiled tiredly at him. "It's been a while."

He left the room with a backward glance at the peaceful sleeping girl in the white bed.

_I'll be back soon, Rukia. I want to be here when you wake up._

-

"I heard you were one of the guys who came to help us," said Ichigo to Ukitake through a mouthful of rice. He had just given Renji a friendly punch in the face, over at the other side of the room, and was feeling rather triumphant.

"Oh, yes. Kuchiki-taichou, too."

"I heard. I was kinda surprised."

"But he would, wouldn't he? It's his sister, after all." Ukitake picked up a piece of salted fish. "He's really quite a good-hearted fellow, you know, even though he acts so cold."

"I guess," muttered Ichigo doubtfully, and set his eyes on a bowl of miso soup.

"Will you go speak to him?"

"Eventually... Just to say thanks. Not that he really needs it, but... anyway, um, Ukitake-san..."

"Hmm?" Ukitake raised his eyebrows curiously. "What's up?"

Ichigo leaned forward, lowering his voice furtively. "Please don't tell anyone else how I acted when Rukia fell, at the battleground... It's pretty embarrassing..."

"Haha, all right!" he replied lightly, patting Ichigo's back. "Really, it's not something to be embarrassed about. Can I tell Kuchiki?"

Ichigo flushed. "No! That's - no! No way!"

"O-oh, okay, I won't, don't worry!"

Ichigo relaxed and sat back.

"...she would be happy, though."

He looked up, startled. "Happy?..."

Ukitake only smiled and turned to his fish. "Oh, what excellent fish!" he exclaimed joyfully, blatantly ignoring Ichigo's confusion.

Ichigo turned back to his food as well, still vexed by the captain's words.

_Whatever. Now to get back to Rukia._

He finished his food quickly and excused himself from the dinner room, eager to return to the sickroom where Rukia lay.

-

With a sigh, Rukia awakened, feeling how stiff and useless her body felt. She blinked blearily and stretched her arms up, straining to bring back the deftness of her fingers. Her head felt hot and stuffy - she needed fresh air...

Sitting up, she moved her legs in an effort to push herself out of bed, but was unable to gather enough strength to lift herself up. One leg hurt greatly when she tried to tense it. Breathing another sigh, she settled for sitting, and rubbed the sleep dust from her eyes. Inside, Shirayuki was joyfully expressing her relief, and praising Rukia's bravery.

_I made it,_ she thought. _I got to the light... I am alive... I am awake..._ She looked down at her hands, and moved her fingers, reveling in the sense of simply being alive.

"Rukia!"

She snapped her gaze up.

Ichigo ran over, spluttering various phrases as he went. "Rukia, you're awake! How're you feeling? Are you okay - your leg - does it hurt - what about -"

"Ichigo. Be quiet for a moment."

He stopped, and kneeled at the bedside, his eyes never leaving hers.

Slowly, she smiled.

"You guided me out... didn't you?"

"What?..."

"I was in darkness. You called me... and led me out... You were a bright light that showed me the way."

Filled with confused wonderment, Ichigo gazed at her with a difficult face. "I... led you out?..."

"Yes. It was you." She tilted her head. "So you have no recollection of it?"

"Well... I was calling you, yeah... And... I was really... I was really... scared... that you wouldn't wake up... so... I guess I tried really hard?.. Um... I-I wanted you to wake up a lot, s-so I...c...I..." He paused, and began to shake, face shadowed.

Rukia's face grew worried. "Ichigo? What's wrong?" She hesitantly reached a hand out to his shoulder.

Suddenly he raised his head so she could see that on his face was the most anguished kind of face she had ever seen on him - kind of similar to the face he had when he had confessed about his hollow up on the dome... All twisted up and tearing apart, especially at the eyes.

"I thought you'd die," he croaked.

And without warning, he embraced her. Not a light, romantic kind, where your heart goes flutter-oh-dearie-me-does-he-like-me?~ No, this was a real, tight, desperate one, where you knew the other didn't ever want to lose you, where the other needed to hold you just to make sure you were real...

She was small and fragile compared to him, and fit easily into the crooks of his arms. Startled, she tensed with this new experience, noticing that he was still trembling. Rukia's eyes widened as she realized.

"Ichigo..."

"I'm not crying," he snuffled through her hair. "I'm n-not crying, d-dammit..."

"Baka," she murmured, smiling. Tears of gladness came to her eyes, too, and they cried together quietly, holding each other.

"I'm... all right... you idiot... I won't die so easily..."

"Sh-shut up... I was _worried,_ okay?"

Happiness surged in her that she refused to show. She only sighed into his chest. "...huh..."

"....can't believe I had to s-save you again..."

"Sorry." She drew back and looked at him, face grave.

He flicked her. "I don't mean it, silly." Then he took his sleeve and wiped her tears away, very carefully and deliberately. She let him, but flicked him back soon after. "Wipe your own tears, you weakling," she teased.

He scrubbed at his eyes furiously, and she laughed. Scowling, he moved to sit on the bed beside her, arms back to support him.

An awkward silence stretched between them. They both felt like they had breached something that had been barricaded to them before, and now, like blind moths, they blundered clumsily through it.

"Thank you," said Rukia quietly, breaking the silence.

"Eh? What's that, suddenly..."

"For coming after me. For saving me. You know." She gazed at him with sincerity in her wondrous violet eyes. "Thank you."

"Mm."

She snorted. "Is that all you can say?"

"Well, what should I say to that, then, huh?"

"I don't know," she replied snidely, "something like 'you're welcome'?"

"That's so boring. And regular."

"Huh."

"You make things so awkward."

"Who's the one who came and hugged me just now?!"

He flushed and frowned. "That's... sorry."

"I forgive you," she laughed.

Their eyes met. Ichigo felt another impulse to hold her, but that would surely earn him a kick or a punch, so he decided against it and looked down at his hands.

"Oi, Ichigo."

"Hmm?"

"Would you perhaps like to return to the real world, for a visit?"

He brightened. "Yeah! Boy, it's been a long while..."

She nodded. "I am sure Yamamoto-soutaichou will let you go."

"Huh?" he exclaimed. "What about you?"

"What?"

"You're not going?"

"Well... I don't need to, it's your family time to spend -"

"Listen up, you," he growled, gripping her arm. "I'm dragging you with me, even if you don't want to."

She blinked, surprised. "But Ichigo - I - Are you sure?- "

"Yes, I'm sure. You're coming with me. You've got no choice." He folded his arms and glared at her impassively. "My family _adores_ you, Rukia. They would kill me if I didn't bring you."

She grinned. "Okay then. When I'm healed enough."

He nodded. "When you're healed enough."

There was a pause as the audible sound of a stomach growling echoed through the room.

Ichigo raised his eyebrows.

Rukia coughed, embarrassed. "Um... Ichigo?"

"Yeah?"

"I am very, _very_ hungry."

-

For the next few days, Ichigo wandered here and there through Seireitei, trying to come in useful where he could, and punctuated those driftings with frequent visits to Rukia. He would tell her of the day's events, and then maybe tell her stories of the real world she had not heard yet; she would tell him her experiences with the Frost People and of times she had spent as a shinigami - and before that, too. They talked in quieter, subdued voices, gentler than before, with a new kind of awareness and care. Their touches were numerous, but were mostly insignificant and slight - an accidental brush here, a short pause of a hand on a shoulder there. They were tiptoeing through a new realm with each other, unable to understand it yet. They were still only children, there in the unknown land.

Gradually, Rukia became stronger, but earlier on she had required Ichigo to carry her to the window to look out and breath in the fresh mint air. Mornings were especially good. To her, the morning meant a stuffed head and murky mind; that cool outside air cleared it all out and promised a good day. She would wake up with the brightening sky, dashing sunshine in her face, and find Ichigo already there, standing by the window he had already opened.

There was a strong sense of comfort and security with knowing he was almost always near. He, in turn, felt reliable - like he belonged, at last. She needed him, he needed her. It was a very nice thing to know, especially now that they had all this peaceful time with each other, without having to worry about hollows or arrancars or creepy ladies in white cloaks...

Every matched smile, every eye-to-eye understanding, every meaningless touch, even every time when they quarreled (and quickly made up after), became engraved in their minds, and replayed over and over. What had once been things to forget became things to remember. Subconsciously, they already knew they were in love; but the conscious part still tiptoed through the fields of incomprehension.

Perhaps, one day, they would realize. For now, she made secret vows to have a turn in saving him, and he promised himself to never let her get that close to dying every again.

The sun shone bright when he knew the moon was near.

-

-------/doc-111ready

THE FROST PEOPLE, AS THEY CALLED THEMSELVES, WERE SUCCESSFULLY HALTED AND DEFEATED, AND SENT TO RETURN TO THE NATURAL WORLD. THEY WERE ESSENTIALLY OF ICE, AND THROUGH SOME UNKNOWN REASON MOST COMMONLY THOUGHT TO BE A LONGING FOR A WORLD OF ICE, CAME TO HOLD A FALSE SORT OF LIFE WITH A BODY BUILT FROM AN ESSENCE OF ICE AND DEATH. THE ABDUCTEES WERE SAFELY RETRIEVED AND HEALED. NO FURTHER PROBLEMS HAVE OCCURRED CONCERNING THESE CREATURES. THIS IS RECORDED ON THE START OF SUMMER, 15 YEARS AFTER THE DEFEAT OF AIZEN.---101..1

----11

--complete//

With a hum of satisfaction, Kurotsuchi clasped his hands together and smiled. What an _interesting_ occurrence to fill yet another space in his book...

-

So concludes the tale of the Frost People.

-

_A/N: Well, it isn't quite the end. There will be a kind of epilogue concerning Ichigo and Rukia's relationship in a separate short story, set in Ichigo's house, continuing on from where I left off here. Since it won't have much connection to the Frost People, I decided to end this story here. Thank you for reading, and because this is the last chapter, I will ask just this once to **please leave a review if you have the time.** That will be my reward for spending many hours writing this story. : ) Thanks!_


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